He had a hard task before him. He was thinking how best to perform it, as he stood in the shadow of a gabled shop door on this dark, brooding day. It was less than a week since Lisle had been carried away from his home and Humphrey Trail had brought Rosanne to be a friend to Vivi. To find Lisle’s home was Dian’s task, and he wanted to do it without asking questions of any one. He took out a faded, leather wallet from an inner pocket of the smock which he wore under his cloak. Standing so that the light fell upon the wallet, he took from it a long folded piece of thin paper, which he opened and examined. It was the plan of a street and a house. He stood for a long time there in the shadow looking at it closely. It was traced in black ink delicately but distinctly. After he had looked at it for some time, he folded it up and put it back in the wallet, and then put the wallet in the inner pocket of his smock again.
Some one bumped against him in passing. It was a farmer’s lad with a sack of potatoes over his shoulder. They were close to the gates and the market carts were drawn up in rows near by, looking ghostly in the cold morning fog. The boy had an honest face, and Dian was moved to speak to him.
“It is a bleak winter day,” he volunteered, and the boy answered snappily:
“There’s no sense in bringing in produce these mornings. Wait till spring, I tell the master. Then there will be lettuces and cucumbers, something worth while; though there won’t be so many to enjoy them as last spring, I’m thinking.” The boy spoke significantly, meaning that many of the rich aristocrats, who had enjoyed the market dainties, were now in prison or had already been executed.
“Have you served many of the great houses with your master’s produce?” Dian asked the boy.
“Bless you, of a surety! There are none of the big houses that I do not know. All of Saint Germain has tasted our lettuces and our young carrots. But that’s all passed now; their day is gone. You look as though you knew a farm well yourself, and as though you did not feel too well acquainted with the city.” He eyed Dian frankly, but not impudently, as he spoke.
Dian
“Yes, I am new to the city and I confess that I would be glad of company. Would you not like to stroll about for a while? This does not seem to be a cheerful part of town. Let us take a look elsewhere.”
Dian had the rare gift of reading faces. He had felt, when he first saw the farmer’s boy, that he was to be trusted and that he was merry and honest of heart. He was very well content when the boy replied that he would like to go about for a while, and he did not have to report to his master until late afternoon. The two started off together, keeping along the quieter streets, and walking rapidly until they came to the great square facing the one-time Tuileries palace.