"He's coming!" warned June, and Monsieur had only sufficient time to wipe away the tears from his withered old cheeks before the guard returned with the jinrikisha man.
After a consultation in Japanese, Monsieur said to June, "I have told the man how to take you home. They will be very anxious about you. You must start at once."
"I'm hungry," said June, "I'd like some of those little crackers that you gave me before."
The guard, obligingly following directions, produced a paper bag from the table drawer.
"I wish they were animal crackers," said June, "I like to eat the elephant first, then he gets hungry and I have to eat the bear, then the bear gets hungry and I have to eat the pig, and the pig gets hungry and I have to eat the rabbit until there aren't any left in the bag."
"You have not spoken to any one about the letter?" whispered Monsieur as he pretended to kiss June good-by.
"'Course not!" declared June indignantly. "It's a secret!" Then as if remembering a lost opportunity he added: "Oh! you couldn't tell me a story, could you? Just a teeny weeny one?"
"Not to-night," said Monsieur laughing, "why, it is eleven o'clock now. But to-morrow, next day, always when you come, the stories are waiting, all that my brain and heart can hold."
And with this promise June was bound to be content.
It was hard to believe that the way back was as long as the way he had come, for before he knew it the wall beside the moat appeared by the roadside, then the parade grounds dim and shadowy in the moonlight, then the crowded streets of the town. He did not know that he was the chief cause of the commotion, that for two hours parties of searchers had been hurrying along every road leading out of town, that people were telling where they had seen him last, and that anxious groups were looking over the low wall into the black waters of the moat.