"No," said auntie to herself, "it is no use stopping to ask. The best thing I can do is to find the shop at once, and if they can tell me nothing there, to follow Mademoiselle Lucie to the police office."
And, with a deep sigh, for, somehow, every step she took farther without seeing anything of the little truant, made auntie's heart feel heavier—she hurried on again.
She soon found the wide street—the street with the dressmakers' and milliners' shops, which Fritz had not cared to look at—then she turned one corner and went on a little farther, then another, and—yes, there was the little old shop, looking just the same as the day they had all stood there so happily. Auntie had been walking very quickly, almost running, but when she saw the shop just before her she stood still—she felt so anxious—what should she do if she could hear nothing of Baby?
When she got to the door she stopped and looked in; there seemed to be no one in the shop. Auntie glanced up to the side of the door where the little portrait had hung. It was gone! Could that have anything to do with Baby? auntie asked herself in a sort of puzzled way. Could Baby have thought of buying it? how much money had he? But it was stupid and foolish to stand there puzzling and wondering, instead of boldly going in to ask. Auntie took her courage in her two hands, as the saying is, and went in.
No one there; where could the owner of the shop be? The last time he had come forward at once when they were only looking in—a little-dried up old man, just the sort of person one would expect to find in such a shop, sitting in a dark corner like an old spider, watching to see what flies were passing his way. Auntie went right in without seeing any one, but she heard voices not far off, and, in her anxiety, she went forward to a door slightly open, leading into rooms behind the shop. She knocked—but for a moment no one took any notice. They were talking so eagerly inside that she had to knock again, and in the moment or two that had passed without them hearing her, she heard one or two words that made her eager to hear more.
"No, no," some one was saying, "much better go at once to the office. We may get into trouble."
"He seems so sensible," said another voice. "I say, better go with him and carry the things, and we shall soon see if he knows his way, and——"
Auntie could not wait any more. She pushed open the door and went in. There was, however, no Herr Baby to be seen, as she had almost expected there would be. There was the old man that she remembered having seen before, looking like a very startled spider this time, as he raised his two shrivelled old arms in surprise at her appearance, and beside him was a very pleasant, bright-faced, young woman, with a baby in her arms, talking, or at least looking as if she had just been talking very eagerly.
"Is he here?" said auntie, quite breathless, "my little boy, my little nephew, I mean. Is Baby here?"
The young woman looked at the old man with a sort of little nod of triumph.