“No doubt.”
Suddenly Lucie stopped short. “Victor! the secret? Where is it? I forgot entirely. You were going to tell me when we came to the end of the journey.”
“But we haven’t quite come to the end. When we reach the house I will tell you if you want to know.”
“There is nothing at all familiar about the place,” said Lucie, stopping again to look around. “I am very sure I never saw it before, and it is not in the direction of our home. I know that is still occupied by the Germans and it doesn’t look as if a German ever saw this part of our dear France.”
Victor made no reply but continued on the way downhill. A little farther on he turned into a lane which led between rows of apple trees. The little cart had already arrived. They could see Jules, pointing, gesticulating. Two or three persons came out of the house. A figure detached itself from the group and came running down the lane.
Victor turned to Lucie with a smile: “There comes the secret,” he said.
“Lucie, Lucie, Lucie!” The call sounded nearer and more excited as the figure approached.
Lucie paused, listened, looked, then she too dashed forward crying: “Annette, Annette!” And in another moment, laughing and crying, the two friends were in each other’s arms.
“Well, how do you like the secret?” asked Victor as he came up. “Was it worth waiting for?”
“It was, it was,” cried Lucie. “I never dreamed it was this. How did it happen? Tell me all about it.”