“They are safe. I’m sure of it, and I don’t worry half as much as you think I do, Madame. I know them both so well. They are so smart. I know my Jean will come back to me, and I think that Dian will bring him,” answered the simple soul bravely, though the tears ran down her cheeks.
“Dear Mother Barbette, this isn’t good-by. It’s just au revoir. We will not rest until we find Marie Josephine and Jean.” As she spoke, Cécile put her arms around Mother Barbette and kissed her.
The driver, who was really a kind-hearted soul, cleared his throat.
“The moon’s up and it’s time to start. No more of this good-by business, or it’ll be good-by for good,” he said, as they all stood at the cottage door, the pine-filled air from the forest blowing about them.
Grigge spoke to his aunt.
“You’d best go to the hut and stay if there’s trouble. You’ll be safe enough there,” he said, and he did not sneer as was his wont. There was a dignity about him that none of them had seen before. He was risking his life for people whom he despised, and he was doing it for the sake of a friend. Perhaps, sometime, he would do the like for sheer love of his brother man. At any rate, he had taken the first step in that direction.
They were off at last, all of them in the great roomy coach, Bertran and Grigge sitting beside the driver. The horses, after a good rest and feed, went like the wind itself! It seemed as though they knew that danger lay behind!
The girls and the governess were tired and bewildered and heartsick. They could think of nothing but Marie Josephine. Finally, after they had thought and said all that they could about the runaways, Denise remarked:
“It’s so wonderful to think they dared to go to Paris. The road is direct enough and Marie Josephine knows it well by coach, but little Jean knows nothing.”
“I teased him once because he had never been anywhere, and he said some day he was going to visit his cousins near Melon,” said Bertran.