"But 'tis sure to be a nice story, Jography," said Maurice. "I shall like going south with you." "Well, sit on my knee and listen, young un. No; it ain't nice a bit. I'm French too, and I'm South too. I used to live in the Pyrenees. I lived there till I was seven years old. I had a mother and no father, and I had a big brother. I wor a happy little chap. My mother used to kiss me and cuddle me up; and my brother--there was no one like Jean. One day I wor playing in the mountains, when a big black man come up and axed me if I'd like to see his dancing dogs. I went with him. He wor a bad, bad man. When he got me in a lonely place he put my head in a bag, so as I could not see nor cry out, and he stole me. He brought me to Paris; afterward he sold me to a man in Lunnon as a 'prentice. I had to dance with the dogs, and I was taught to play the fiddle. Both my masters were cruel to me, and they beat me often and often. I ha' been in Lunnon for seven year now; I can speak English well, but I never forgot the French. I always said as I'd run away back to France, and find my mother and my brother Jean. I never had the chance, for I wor watched close till ten days ago. I walked to Dover, and made my way across in an old fishing-smack. And here I am in France once more. Now little uns, I'm going south, and I can talk English to you, and I can talk French too. Shall we club together, little mates?" "But have you any money at all, Jography?" asked Cecile, puckering her pretty brows anxiously; "and--and--are you a honest boy, Jography?" "Well, ef you ain't a queer little lass! _I_ honest! I ain't likely to rob from _you_; no, tho' I ha'n't no money--but ha' you?" "Yes, dear Jography, I have money," said Cecile, laying her hand on the ragged sleeve; "I have some precious, precious money, as I must give to Lovedy when I see her. If that money gets lost or stolen Cecile will die. Oh, Jography! you won't, you won't take that money away from me. Promise, promise!" "I ain't a brute," said the boy. "Little un, I'd starve first!" "I believe you, Jography," said Cecile; "and, Jography, me and Maurice have a little other money to take us down south, and we are to stay in the smallest villages, and sleep in the werry poorest inns. Can you do that?" "Why, yes, I think I can sleep anywhere; and ef you'll jest lend me Toby there, I'll teach him to dance to my fiddling, and that'll earn more sous than I shall want. Is it a bargain then? Shall I go with you two mites and help you to find this ere Lovedy?" "Jography, 'twas Jesus the Guide sent you," said Cecile, clasping his hand. "And I don't want to go to heaven just now," said Maurice, taking hold of the other hand. CHAPTER III. BLUE EYES AND GOLDEN HAIR. "And now," proceeded Joe, _alias_ Alphonse, _alias_ Jography, "the first thing--now as it is settled as we three club together--the first thing is to plan the campaign."