"No," said the boy; "we are going to see Chillon to-night, and then we are going along the shore of the lake beyond, to Montreux, and take the boat there to-morrow morning."
It was quite amusing to Rollo to talk thus with a strange boy in a language which both had learned at school, and which neither of them could speak well, but which was, nevertheless, the only language they had in common.
"How many boys are there in your class?" asked Rollo.
"Sixteen," said the boy; "sixteen—six." The boy then held up the five fingers of one hand, and one of the other, to show to Rollo that six was the number he meant. The words six and sixteen are very similar in the French language, and for a moment the boy confounded them.
"And the teacher too, I suppose," said Rollo.
"Yes," said the boy, "and the teacher."
Here there was a short pause.
"Are you going to Chillon?" said the boy to Rollo.
"Yes," said Rollo. "I am going with my father and mother."