“Just think!” cried the child ecstatically, giving a little skip, “I’m really looking at the place I’ve heard of so many times.”
“Well, your education has begun,” said Jack. “See that you make the most of all your opportunities.”
“What a very funny place,” observed Priscilla, looking around her.
“It is a park—” began Desiré.
“But look at those,” interrupted the younger girl, pointing to several graves.
“It must have been used as a cemetery first,” replied her sister, walking over to read the inscription on a nearby stone, and closely followed by Priscilla. That moment or two gave René the chance for which he had longed, and he was off down the road and onto the wharf. Desiré turned to look for him just in time to see a little blue-clad figure dart across the gang plank of the Boston steamer.
“René!” she called in desperation, racing toward the dock.
The tug which helped the steamer pull away from her slip was already out in the harbor; bells were ringing, the whistle was blowing, dock hands were running about. Across the gang plank ran Desiré and Priscilla just before it was withdrawn, and the ropes were cast off. As they looked helplessly among the crowds of people and piles of luggage for the truant, the tug was steadily pulling on the long tow line, and heading the steamer out to sea.
“My—little—brother,” gasped Desiré to an officer.
“What about him?” demanded the busy man curtly.