'But what are you waiting for?'
'We are waiting for our people to come for us. They told us to come here and wait for them. So we are waiting till they come,' the eldest girl replied.
'Yes. We are waiting till our people come for us,' said all the others in chorus.
'But,' said Frau Ebermann very patiently--'but now tell me, for I tell you that I am not in the least angry, where do you come from? Where do you come from?'
The five gave the names of two villages of which she had read in the papers,
'That is silly,' said Frau Ebermann. 'The people fired on us, and they were punished. Those places are wiped out, stamped flat.'
'Yes, yes, wiped out, stamped flat. That is why and--I have lost the ribbon off my pigtail,' said the younger girl. She looked behind her over the sofa-back.
'It is not here,' said the elder. 'It was lost before. Don't you remember?'
'Now, if you are lost, you must go and tell our police. They will take care of you and give you food,' said Frau Ebermann. 'Anna will show you the way there.'
'No,'--this was the six-year-old with the smile,--'we must wait here till our people come for us. Mustn't we, sister?'