"'And you too, nipper, answer. Where are your brothers and sisters?'
"I was terribly afraid, madam. The little boy was crying. But all the same he said, and well he knew it wasn't true:
"'They're playing down below—among the rocks.'
"Then they tied me up and said:
"'You stay there. We're coming back. And if we don't find you here, look out, mother.'
"And off they went, taking the little boy with them. One of them had rolled him up in his jacket."
Dorothy, very pale, was considering. She asked:
"And Saint-Quentin?"
"He came in about half an hour afterwards to look for Montfaucon. He ended by finding me. I told him the story: 'Ah,' said he, the tears in his eyes. 'Whatever will mummy say?' He wanted to cut my ropes. I refused. I was afraid the men would come back. Then he took down an old broken gun from above the chimney-piece, a chassepot which dates from the time of my dead father, without any cartridges, and went off with the two others."
"But where was he going?" said Dorothy.