They all ran eagerly to the foot of the stairs. There, coming down backward, was Humphrey Trail and in front of him, moving cautiously, her hand on his shoulders, was Rosanne. Dian was up the stairs and had shut the panel in a second. Then he waited a few minutes, listening. When he returned Humphrey was surrounded by the children. Jean sat on his knee, Marie Josephine stood on one side, Rosanne next her, the two friends holding hands, and in front of him stood Lisle. Lisle was speaking and Marie Josephine was more surprised at his words than at the arrival of the farmer and Rosanne.
“Humphrey Trail, I am glad to see you. Humphrey Trail, you were right and I was wrong. I did not take your warning. I kept on going to the baker’s shop until it became my prison. I brought Rosanne into awful danger and you rescued her. Humphrey, I—” He looked about the dim, bare place, weird in the uncertain light of the fast melting candles. “You are welcome here,” he ended simply.
Marie Josephine never knew, she said afterward, whether she was really awake, it all seemed so fantastic, the half-dark cellar, all of them there together, Lisle talking about a prison in a bakery shop, and a note in a cake which Dian found at a spinner’s supper. She heard over again of Humphrey’s wrapping Rosanne in the blue velvet mantle, of his vain search for Lisle, of his meeting at the gates with Dian, of Vivi.
They talked on, as Dian went through the dim, rocky alcoves beyond, making beds out of rugs and blankets and lighting candles, the striking of the flint and tinder making an odd sound in the stillness.
Vivi had come in late that evening and had brought disquieting news. This Humphrey told Dian in an aside. She had spent a good part of the day roaming about, and had gone to the house of the Marquise du Ganne. With other curious children of the street, she had looked through the broken door at the comtesse. She had heard that there were other prisoners hidden in the house and that in the course of a few days they were to be taken to the prison of La Force. She had heard, too, among the crowd that there was to be a general search for missing aristocrats through the Saint Antoine district. She had come in tired and excited, after Humphrey had searched for her in vain and had returned to the alley, and she had told him all she knew. What he had not understood, Rosanne had explained in English. They had thought it best that Vivi should not know who they were, as much for her own safety as for theirs; so, when they left, Humphrey put a mound of coins on the table and said to her: “Th’art faithful. We ha’ trust in tha. I shall come back,” but he did not tell her where they were all going.
Rosanne had put her arms around her friend and cried, and when Humphrey carried her out of the door, she had said earnestly:
“I, too, shall see you again. We are friends, Vivi.”
It was a grave risk that Humphrey ran, for there was no friendly snowstorm to cover their getting away, but the alley had been deserted and he had concealed Rosanne completely with his cloak.
“Dian, I wish we had brought Vivi with us. I think all the time of Vivi,” Rosanne said as he came up to her, a pillow for her bed and Marie Josephine’s in his hands.
The shepherd smiled.