s for us."

I did not reply, I was looking....

It _was_ Mother Barberin. It was her bonnet. It was her blue skirt. She
was walking quickly as though she was in a hurry to get home. When she
got to our gate she pushed it open and went quickly up the garden path.
I jumped up at once and stood up on the bank, without giving a thought
to Capi, who sprang towards me. Mother Barberin did not stay long in the
house. She came out and began running to and fro, in the yard, with her
arms stretched out.

She was looking for me. I leaned forwards and, at the top of my voice, I
cried:

"Mamma! Mamma!" But my cry could not reach her, it was lost in the air.

"What's the matter? Have you gone crazy?" asked Vitalis.

I did not reply; my eyes were still fixed on Mother Barberin. But she
did not look up, for she did not know that I was there above her. She
went round the garden, then out into the road, looking up and down. I
cried louder, but like my first call it was useless. Then Vitalis
understood, and he also came up on the bank. It did not take him long to
see the figure with the white sunbonnet.

"Poor little chap," he said softly to himself.

"Oh," I sobbed, encouraged by his words of pity, "do let me go back."
But he took me by the wrist and drew me down and onto the road.

"As you are now rested," he said, "we'll move on."

I tried to free myself, but he held me firmly.

"Capi! Zerbino," he said, looking at the dogs. The two dogs came close
to me; Capi behind, Zerbino in front. After taking a few steps I turned
round. We had passed the bend of the hill and I could no longer see the
valley nor our house.

CHAPTER V

EN ROUTE

Because a man pays forty francs for a child that is not to say that he
is a monster, and that he intends to eat the child. Vitalis had no
desire to eat me and although he bought children he was not a bad man. I
soon had proof of this. We had been walking in silence for some time. I
heaved a sigh.

"I know just how you feel," said Vitalis; "cry all you want. But try and
see that this is for your own good. Those people are not your parents;
the wife has been good to you and I know that you love her, that is why
you feel so badly. But she could not keep you if the husband did not
want you. And he may not be such a bad chap after all; he is ill and
can't do any more work. He'll find it hard to get along...."

Yes, what he said was true, but I had only one thought in my mind,
perhaps