Lisle broke in impatiently: “What can Marie Josephine do that I cannot do if I’m disguised properly? Why should she take the risk while I am here?” he protested.
Dian answered him quietly: “The Little Mademoiselle will be safe. You came between me and a gunshot last night. Help me once again by staying here until I am ready.”
He lifted Marie Josephine on to the first rung of the tall ladder stairs and then started up after her. The others watched them from below.
When they had closed the secret panel, Dian stood looking down at Marie Josephine, a world of compassion in his eyes.
“Little Mademoiselle, you are like your grandfather. Remember him to-day, for there is much for you to do. Your mother is a prisoner in the house of your Great-aunt Hortense who died some weeks ago. She is in peril, but you can save her!”
Dian had spoken the hard words quietly. It was better to say them all at once, and not wait until the time came to act. Her eyes met his bravely and her answer was characteristic.
“Lisle wants to be the one, poor Lisle!” she said.
“He cannot help at the moment. Now I will tell you how you can aid in saving your mother. We have all told you, indeed you know, that you came so easily through the city gates because you are, in your disguise, very much like the little Vivi, who is Mademoiselle de Soigné’s friend. Vivi goes about the city everywhere. She is known by soldiers, doormen, street people, and their children. She sells licorice water, as did her father, and she is popular among the crowds. One of the men on guard at the west gate is her especial friend, and Little Mademoiselle, when you and Jean came through the gates he thought you were Vivi and one of her chums. If you will go to the house of the Marquise du Ganne with Vivi’s licorice water tray, and sell your wares among the crowds who daily throng the lower halls, you can help to save your mother!”
Dian sat down on an overturned barrel, and Marie Josephine placed herself on the lowest step of the cellar stairs.
“Maman,” she murmured faintly. “I want to see maman.” Tears brimmed in her eyes and fell silently on to her shabby jacket. She brushed them away with the back of her hand, and in spite of his pity and love for her, Dian smiled. It was so like her unconsciously to act her part. He waited with his usual patience until she was quiet, then he said: