“I’m most awfully sorry you were so frightened, dear,” said Jack, sitting down beside her and taking her hand in his, while René piled on top of his brother, crying exultantly, “I saved you, Jack; didn’t I?”
Desiré soon recovered her composure and got up to continue her work; but although he did not comment on the fact, Jack saw that her hands were still a bit shaky. Presently he suggested—“Hadn’t you better go in and start supper, Dissy? René can help me finish here.”
“Sure,” agreed the small boy importantly. “I can help Jack.”
Desiré went in, and the two boys sank the pots and set the markers, Jack of course doing most of the work, but René fully convinced that his brother could never have managed without his aid.
“There are some other pots right next to where Simon told me to put ours,” observed Jack, as they were finishing supper.
René was so sleepy that he had left the table and curled himself up in an old rocker to take a nap.
“Oh, I do hope that they don’t belong to either of those awful men who were here this afternoon,” said Desiré with a shudder.
“They’re rough, of course, but they weren’t really so bad, Desiré. They have to protect their interests, and of course were looking after Simon’s. I hardly think, though, that either of them is our next-door neighbor. The hut beyond here looks deserted, but the pots and markers are there all right.”
Desiré took the tiny bedroom, and the boys had a couple of cots in the other room. Everybody was tired out with the unaccustomed work and excitement, and slept heavily until far later than usual. Jack, who was the first to waken, looked across at the other cot to see if René was still asleep, and was astonished to see that the cot was empty.
“Now where is that rascal?” he thought, crossing the room to the outside door, which was ajar.