Jean jumped up and ran over to the door and tried it. It would not open. They were locked in!
“She recognized me, but not for certain until Flambeau came. Oh, how did he get out!” Flambeau left his dish of milk and came up to Marie Josephine at the sound of his name, and she put her face against his back. “Flambeau, why did you come? You’ve caused all the trouble. What shall we do with you?”
Jean was now fully awake to the situation and, although he was frightened, he was excited and alert. He nodded at Marie Josephine.
“It’s come, hasn’t it? You know we’ve always wanted an adventure! What would they say if they knew at Les Vignes, Lit—” Jean caught himself just in time, “Jo.”
Marie Josephine had jumped up from the table while Jean was speaking. She clasped her hands together and put her face down on them, and the tears trickled through her fingers.
“We must get away, we must. Why, they will discover that we’ve gone very soon now. It must be nearly seven. They will be sending Neville to find us, and his horse is fleet.” She caught her breath with a sob as she spoke.
“It’s a long ride, and if we do get away I’m not afraid that Neville will find us, for we are small and can hide easy, Jo,” Jean said, and Marie Josephine smiled faintly. She had no pocket handkerchief and so rubbed her sleeve across her eyes.
“How stupid I am to cry. We must do something at once, Jean. We—but what can we do?”
Jean ran over to the window and looked out. He tugged at the knob, for the window shut like a small door. Marie Josephine came up to him and when he tired of tugging at it she tried to move it. It was a little swollen by recent dampness, but after Jean tugged the second time it gave, swung open, and the fresh morning air greeted them. Something else greeted them, too. It was the sweet pink and whiteness of the apple tree. Jean leaned way out on the window ledge and looked around, his eyes shining excitedly. Then he turned and faced Marie Josephine.
“It’s risky, but I think there’s a chance that we can reach the tree. The eave’s trough, don’t you see, holding on to the roof where it curves down!” he said.