“Oh look! Look! Stop! Let me read it!”
Florence looked in the direction indicated, then stared at her in astonishment. She saw before her only a large post, part of the dock, which rose some three feet above the water. On the post was no note, sign or any other manner of writing that might be read.
Yet Petite Jeanne seized an oar to turn them about and bring their boat up close to the post.
Then for the first time Florence saw what had attracted her companion’s attention—three twigs pinned together by a small nail and fastened securely to the post.
To the uninitiated this would have seemed the work of a playful child. To Jeanne it spoke volumes. Even Florence understood enough of its meaning to cause her worry.
“Now she will know,” she whispered to herself.
The three sticks were a gypsy “patteran,” a part of the sign language left by these wandering people at every crossroad.
“See!” exclaimed Jeanne. “There are gypsies about. And oh! they are French gypsies!” She clapped her hands. “Only in France do they make a patteran like that.
“See! I will read it. They say they are three; a man, a woman and a little girl. They have gone up the bay and will stay to-night at a small island.”
Florence marveled that so much could be told by three crossed sticks. Still, she did not doubt the French girl’s reading.