"Didn't I promise," she wailed, "when our father died, that, being the eldest, I would take such care of you, and yet I have allowed Lydia, our little one, who has so much need of a mother, to be carried off, the good God only knows where!"
"Don't blame yourself, Nadine," said Cæsar soothingly, putting his arm affectionately around her. "We shall find her again, never fear. If it costs my life I shall get her back again."
He was a sturdy high-spirited chap, Cæsar, and although younger than Nadine, now that she was so overcome with grief, he took upon himself the part of comforter and champion.
But poor little Abel buried his head in her lap, sobbing piteously, and murmuring "Lydia—Lydia—where is my sister, Lydia?"
It was not until ten o'clock in the morning that the key grated in the lock of the massive door, which on opening disclosed the portly figure of the brigadier.
"Now, then," he said in his deep rough voice, "come along with me. The sous-préfet has arrived, and is awaiting you, and he will attend to your affair. I give you warning beforehand that it will be useless for you to attempt to deceive him. The sous-préfet is a very clever man, and has no pity for tramps who boldly tell lies."
These cruel words stung Nadine and Cæsar so that they found it hard to keep back a retort, but they looked at each other in a significant way, and in silence followed the bullying brigadier.
Patiently awaiting them at the door of the prison were Vigilant and Nalla. The former, as soon as he perceived his young owners, set up a joyous barking and gamboling about them, showing his affection and delight. Nalla, on his part, waved his trunk up and down, and indulged in funny rumblings which were expressive of his gladness at seeing them again.
"Stay there!" commanded the brigadier sternly, but the elephant took no notice of him, and ambled along behind the children.