he rope and walking with heads held high, we glanced over
our shoulders at the villagers, who were standing on their doorsteps
staring at us.

I did not want to tire our cow, but I was in a hurry to get to Chavanon
that same day, so we set out briskly. By evening we had almost reached
my old home. Mattia had never tasted pancakes, and I had promised him
some as soon as we arrived. On the way I bought one pound of butter, two
pounds of flour and a dozen eggs. We had now reached the spot where I
had asked Vitalis to let me rest, so that I could look down on Mother
Barberin's house, as I thought for the last time.

"Take the rope," I said to Mattia.

With a spring I was on the parapet. Nothing had been changed in our
valley; it looked just the same; the smoke was even coming out of the
chimney. As it came towards us it seemed to me I could smell oak leaves.
I jumped down from the parapet and hugged Mattia, Capi sprang up on me,
and I squeezed them both tight.

"Come, let's get there as quickly as possible now," I cried.

"What a pity," sighed Mattia. "If this brute only loved music, what a
triumphal entry we could make."

As we arrived at one of the turns in the road, we saw Mother Barberin
come out of her cottage and go off in the direction of the village. What
was to be done? We had intended to spring a surprise upon her. We should
have to think of something else.

Knowing that the door was always on the latch, I decided to go straight
into the house, after tying our cow up in the cowshed. We found the shed
full of wood now, so we heaped it up in a corner, and put our cow in
poor Rousette's place.

When we got into the house, I said to Mattia: "Now, I'll take this seat
by the fire so that she'll find me here. When she opens the gate, you'll
hear it creak; then you hide yourself with Capi."

I sat down in the very spot where I had always sat on a winter night. I
crouched down, making myself look as small as possible, so as to look as
near like Mother Barberin's little Remi as I could. From where I sat I
could watch the gate. I looked round the kitchen. Nothing was changed,
everything was in the same place; a pane of glass that I had broken
still had the bit of paper pasted over it, black with smoke and age.
Suddenly I saw a white bonnet. The gate creaked.

"Hide yourself quickly," I said to Mattia.

I made myself smaller and smaller. The door opened and Mother Barberin
came in. She stared at me.

"Who is th