"'Where are you going?' I said to her.
"'To save Jacques.'"
"Jacques is her son, go on, quick," interrupted Caillette.
"'But you can't save any one,' I then said. This was not kind, Miss, but I was so astonished. She did not seem to mind it though, for she began to talk about a box, and told me to open the door. I had no right to disobey, you know."
"And she went away?" cried Caillette.
"Yes, and quick enough, too."
Caillette did not wait to hear more. She flew down the stairs also.
It was seven o'clock in the morning. Caillette did not dare to find Jacques, and tell him she had been faithless to her trust. No, she must find Françoise herself. She asked questions of all she met, and at last she had a ray of light. An old rag picker told her that he had seen a woman answering to the description given by Caillette. She at once started in the direction he pointed out; it was the road to Germany she took. She sold a small gold locket, which held a bit of ribbon from a sash Fanfar had once given her. She kept the ribbon, and received several crowns for the locket. She walked all day, finally certain that Françoise was not far in advance. It was not until the morning of the second day that the girl was rewarded by seeing Françoise at the door of an inn. Caillette rushed forward.
"Mother!" she cried.
"Ah! you know her?" said the innkeeper. "She is very strange."