“You have a chilly day for doing naught but standing still,” he went on. They had laughed at his attempt to speak their Paris French, and one of them had replied: “We are watching a nest to see that the birds do not fly away, citizen.” Then he had gone on as unconcernedly as he could. So Lisle’s mother and his Great-aunt Hortense were prisoners, too! Humphrey was thinking over this occurrence of a fortnight ago, as he walked toward the Place de la Bastille. He had gone back twice since to a vantage point where he could see the Du Ganne house without being observed himself. Both times he had seen the soldiers. He was thankful that Rosanne was safe for the present, at least. He was slowly trying to prepare a way of escape when the time should come that he could get away, but he knew that unless he could take the children, Lisle and Rosanne, with him, he would never go. He would not go alone. The skipper of the schooner _Sandlass_, Anastasius Grubb, was a Yorkshire friend of his. He had made the voyage across from England with his crony, and he had waved him a smiling good-by from the shore. But that was some time ago now and Anastasius was as far away and unattainable as the stars, or so it seemed to Humphrey on that raw February night! He walked on toward the rue Saint Honoré, drawing up the wide collar of his coat as the stinging wind blew about him. At last he turned in at the gilded door of the bakery at 126 rue Saint Honoré. Its blue and silver sign was flapping in the wind. When he came inside he saw the bakery woman talking across the counter with a boy who carried a basket of vegetables. “Tell your master that I say he is getting almost too fine for his old friends, judging by the cake he has ordered for next week!” the woman was saying, and the boy answered: “It’s not for himself. It’s for the seed merchant where we stay when we come in with produce. Some of his friends are coming together next week for a dispute and supper!” The bakery woman shrugged her shoulders. “That’s all they do, waste good time chattering like a set of magpies. Well, they’ll have the cake, never fear! Now you can go to the back and take a cup of coffee and a croissant, if you’ve a mind to. Only do get that big basket out of the way, and quickly, too. You’re right in front of a customer.” The boy went through the shop to the back where he found himself in the midst of general confusion. Humphrey selected a good-sized sponge cake topped with almond icing. It was expensive and he counted out his coins ruefully. He did not have a great deal of money and he knew that he must save enough for bribes, if need be. He took the package of cake from the woman, who gave him only a passing look, and went out.