"You must come inside ze house," whispered Florette fearfully. "It is not safe to talk here."
"There isn't any one following us," said Tom's companion reassuringly. "If we can just get some old clothes and some grub we'll be all right."
"Zere is much danger," said the girl, unconvinced. "We are always watched. But you are friends to Armand. We must help you."
She led the way into the house and into a simply furnished room lighted by a single lamp and as she cautiously shut the heavy wooden blinds and lowered the light, the two fugitives looked eagerly at the first signs of home life which they had seen in many a long day.
It was in vain that the two Americans declined the wine which old Pierre insisted upon their drinking.
"You will drink zhust a leetle—yess?" said the girl prettily. "It is make in our own veenyard."
So the boys sipped a little of the wine and found it grateful to their weary bodies and overwrought nerves.
"Now you can tell us—of Armand," she said eagerly.
Often during Tom's simple story she stole to the window and, opening the blind slightly, looked fearfully along the dark, quiet road. The very atmosphere of the room seemed charged with nervous apprehension and every sound of the breeze without startled the tense nerves of the little party.
Old Pierre and his wife, though quite unable to understand, listened keenly to every word uttered by the strangers, interrupting their daughter continually to make her translate this or that sentence.