Whir-r! The chopper descends in front of him, almost taking his head off!
Picard executes a strategic retirement to the rear. There! Isn’t there seemingly a good chance to crawl out between the other guardian’s legs, and thus escape?
Picard tries it.
Alas! the first butcher catches sight of Picard’s be-tufted head protruding in this strange manner from under the crotch of his fellow. The Man of Meat grasps Picard firmly by the collar and pulls him forth.
With the other hand he raises the axe to chop the offender’s head off, thinks better 110 of it, twirls Picard swiftly around, and using the flat of the chopper spanks the rear of the Picard anatomy, sending him sprawling into the limbo.
So that little Henriette’s excursion into Freedom is unattended and alone. It is quite unlikely that she bothers about Picard at all. “Louise! Rue de Brissac!” is the sole thought of her whirling little brain, as she speeds on.
Just where is the Frochards’ cellar door? Certainly she has never noticed it in her frequent searches of the Pont Neuf district. But perhaps some one can tell her––She is in the Rue de Brissac now, almost at the spot where she herself was kidnapped and Louise was lost.
A good-looking daughter of the people comes hurrying by.
“Can you tell me where the Frochards live?” inquires Henriette eagerly.
The girl points to an almost indistinguishable trap-door, nearly covered with straw, in front of one of the houses. “There!” she says. Henriette presses the newcomer to accompany her. “Sorry, I haven’t a minute!” negatives the other, hastening 111 off in spite of Henriette’s efforts to detain her.