There was a moment’s silence as they watched the two climb up on the coach. Grigge turned and spoke to them again. “You are to stay here until I come,” he said. “We trust you, Grigge.” It was Cécile who spoke, her lovely face very white in the starlight. They called their thanks after the coach driver. Champar’s cross-eye leered at them over his shoulder. He waved his hand. “Keep to yourselves, and keep an eye on that fat boy or he will give you all away!” he called. CHAPTER XXIII IN GREAT-AUNT HORTENSE’S HOUSE “Was it while the bakery man was saying that he would make you cry that you heard the noise first, or just before?” “Lisle said it was while the man was speaking that he heard the noise first. You’re so excited, Marie Josephine, you don’t listen to anything.” As she spoke, Rosanne took a sip of the tea which Humphrey had just brewed for them. “It’s so bitter, Humphrey,” she said to him over her shoulder. The two girls sat on each side of Lisle on the chest. It was the next day after they had come to the cellar, and to Rosanne it was most bewildering to be there in the dusk of the old place with her dear Marie Josephine by her side. Humphrey came up to them with a steaming jug. “Never tha mind if it’s bitter, lass, take th’ tea and let it warm tha well.” As he spoke Humphrey peered at Rosanne anxiously, his round face full of concern. He had rescued her himself and had had her in his care all these long weeks. Her face seemed very white in the grey shadows of the hidden cellar. Marie Josephine and Lisle held out their horn drinking cups for more tea, and then Humphrey filled a cup for himself. He was a little worried about his homespun traveling bag which he had brought with him to Paris, and which Dian was to bring when he came back from a visit to the alley. “Sit here, Humphrey Trail; there’s room.” Lisle shoved along the wide chest as he spoke and the farmer sat down beside him. He had never heard so much talk going on at one time before in his life. It had seemed, since he had arrived the night before, that everyone wanted to speak at the same time, and that each one said the same things and asked the same questions over and over. Marie Josephine was saying for the third time, “I’m going to see maman at Great-aunt Hortense’s to-day!” Well, that was a task that had been left for Dian, telling Marie Josephine that her mother was a prisoner and that her aunt had died. Part of the telling Lisle did at once. “Great-aunt Hortense died some weeks ago, Marie Josephine,” he said. She looked at him, her black eyes wide with astonishment. He was growing more used to her wild, unkempt appearance, but he still grinned every time he looked at her. “Poor Great-aunt Hortense! How she must miss everything! She did so love to be in it all, never wanted to be left out of anything, even our children’s parties! Great-aunt Hortense gone—why—it makes everything seem different!”