ible.

Joseph promised other choice bits of interest in and near
mountain-ringed Chambery; but I had small appetite for sightseeing
without the Boy, and after my brief reverence to the elephants, I
hurried the muleteer and mule to the hotel.

At the door we were met by a porter, far too polite a person to betray
the surprise which my companions Joseph and Finois invariably excited
in civilisation. He helped to unfasten the pack, and as it disappeared
into the vestibule, I was about to bid Joseph _au revoir_. But his
face gave me pause. Like the key to a cipher, it told me all the
secret workings of his mind.

"You might wait here before putting up Finois," I said, "until I
enquire inside whether the young Monsieur and Innocentina have arrived
safely. No doubt they have, as we did not catch them up on the road,
and it would have been difficult to mistake the way. Still----"

"_Voila_, Monsieur!" exclaimed Joseph, his deep eyes brightening at
something to be seen over my shoulder.

I turned, and there was meek, grey Souris leading the way for
Innocentina and Fanny, who were trailing slowly towards us down the
street.

I was delighted to see them. Not until now had I realised how
beautiful was Innocentina, how engaging the two little plush-coated
donkeys. I loved all three.

"_Eh bien_, Innocentina!" I gaily cried. "How are you? How is your
young Monsieur?"

"He was well when I saw him last," returned Innocentina. "He must be
very far away by this time."

"Very far away?" I echoed her words blankly. "Yes, Monsieur. Here is
a letter, which he told me to deliver to you without fail. I was not
to leave Chambery until I had put it into your hand, myself. I was on
my way to your hotel, to see if you had arrived. Now that I have seen
you"--here a starry flash at Joseph--"I can begin my journey."

"Where, if I may ask?"

"Towards my home. Monsieur had better read his letter."

[Illustration: "VOILA, MONSIEUR!"]

I had taken the sealed envelope mechanically, without looking at it.
Now I fixed my eyes upon the address, which was written in a firm,
original, and interesting hand, that impressed me as familiar, though
I could not think where I had seen it. Certainly, so far as I could
remember, in all my journeyings with him I had never happened to see
the Boy's handwriting. Yet Innocentina said this letter was from him.

Suddenly it occurred to me that I could do something more enlightening
than stare at the envel