Dian was glad to hear Lisle say this, and his face bore a very earnest look as he answered: “You are right to ask for her, and I have told Mademoiselle de Soigné and the Little Mademoiselle that she is safe. I will tell you more than this. I could not go away from Paris leaving Vivi alone and unprotected, to starve. She has been our friend, loyal always. I shall take care of her in the country where she will be happy as the sunshine. I hope that Mother Barbette will open her heart to her, finding in her the little girl she has always wanted for her own. It was easy to procure a passport for Vivi, and she leaves the gates to-morrow at twelve——”
“But you said—I don’t understand—— How can Marie Josephine be taken for her if she has already gone?” Lisle looked up, deeply puzzled.
“Do you not see? Her friend, Georges Fardou, will not be there at noon. He comes on duty always at five. He will know nothing of Vivi’s having left and will play the game of letting her through the gates as usual. What we must hope—aye, and pray—is that he will let her little comrades through also!”
Lisle smiled. “You are you, Dian. Next you will tell me that the others at Pigeon Valley are safe!”
“That I can tell you now. Listen well. They are safe enough in a deserted barn near Calais. Champar, the cross-eyed coach driver, took them there. I was saving this to tell you at the last before we leave, in order to give you all, especially Mademoiselle de Soigné, good courage.”
“Cécile du Monde in a deserted barn!” Lisle threw back his head in the old way. Then he laughed. “We are all a set of vagabonds. Eh bien! so much the better. Rosanne,” he called to her over his shoulder, “we are tramps, all of us. Dian has more news. Cécile and Bertran and that funny Proté and Madame le Pont and Hortense are safe, hiding in a barn——”
“I know,” she interrupted. “Marie Josephine told me last night before we went to sleep. She said we must be quiet about it and not talk too much, because there was so much to plan. She told me that I must not speak at all by the gates or afterward, for fear I would give myself away, but I’ve remembered ever so many things that Vivi used to say, and when I’m dressed in tatters I think I can talk like her.” Rosanne smiled cheerfully as she spoke, but her smile faded a little, later in the day, when all her long, soft, golden hair was sheared and fell in a glittering heap on the chest. She did not cry, but there was a quiver about her mouth. Dian picked the hair up and wrapped it in a piece of satin that had covered one of the pillows they had brought down.
“It will not be safe to take it with us; but remember, Mademoiselle, nothing can happen to the hidden cellar. Some day we will come here to the chest and find it and give it to your mother in memory of the old days in France, which will be dear to her,” he said, laying the bright bundle in a corner of the chest.
They all laughed at each other, for they were the sorriest sights imaginable. Vivi lived in one of the worst alleys in Paris, and her friends were the most unkempt of all the children who played about the gates. Rosanne’s hair they discolored with a dark fluid, and they rubbed dye into her delicate face and arms and hands. She wore a tattered dress, which had a berry stain down the front, and no stockings under her broken shoes. They had not dared to let her go barefooted because of her feet betraying her. Marie Josephine was Vivi, in the torn dirty dress that had stood the journey from Pigeon Valley, her uncombed hair flapping about her face and eyes. She was tanned like a veritable gypsy, and there was no need of any more disguise for her. She was the street gamin to perfection, and she had the gift of knowing how to play a part. She had confidence, too. The experience at the house of Great-aunt Hortense had given it to her. She was full of fire and courage and the love of adventure. She was ready!
“The last of the Saint Frères! Oh, you funny boy!” She danced about her brother mockingly. “What an honest country lad you look, to be sure, does he not, Humphrey Trail?” she cried laughingly.