Knowing that the door was always on the latch, I decided to go straight into the house, after tying our cow up in the cowshed. We found the shed full of wood now, so we heaped it up in a corner, and put our cow in poor Rousette's place.
When we got into the house, I said to Mattia: "Now, I'll take this seat by the fire so that she'll find me here. When she opens the gate, you'll hear it creak; then you hide yourself with Capi."
I sat down in the very spot where I had always sat on a winter night. I crouched down, making myself look as small as possible, so as to look as near like Mother Barberin's little Remi as I could. From where I sat I could watch the gate. I looked round the kitchen. Nothing was changed, everything was in the same place; a pane of glass that I had broken still had the bit of paper pasted over it, black with smoke and age. Suddenly I saw a white bonnet. The gate creaked.
"Hide yourself quickly," I said to Mattia.
I made myself smaller and smaller. The door opened and Mother Barberin came in. She stared at me.
"Who is there?" she asked.
I looked at her without answering; she stared back at me. Suddenly she began to tremble.
"Oh, Lord, is it my Remi!" she murmured.
I jumped up and caught her in my arms.