died, I have told you that me and you must go on a long, long
journey. We must go south. You don't like to go. Nor I don't like it
neither, Maurice--but that don't matter. In the book Mrs. Moseley
gave me all about Jesus, it says that people, and even little
children, have to do lots of things they don't like. But if they are
brave, and do the hard things, Jesus the good Guide, is _so_
pleased with them. Maurice, if you come with me to-day, you will be a
real, brave French boy. You know how proud you are of being a French
boy."

"Yes," answered Maurice, pouting his pretty rosy lips a little, "I
don't want to be an English boy. I want to be French, same as father.
But it won't make me English to stay in our snug night's lodging,
where everything is nice and warm, and we have plenty to eat. Why
should we go south to-day, Cecile? Does Jesus want us to go just now?"

"I will tell you," said Cecile; "I will trust you, Maurice. Maurice,
when our stepmother was dying, she gave me something very precious
--something very, very precious. Maurice, if I tell you what it was,
will you promise never, never, never to tell anybody else? Will you
look me in the face, and promise me that, true and faithful, Maurice?"

"True and faithful," answered Maurice, "true and faithful, Cecile.
Cecile, what did our stepmother give you to hide?"

"Oh, Maurice! I dare not tell you all. It is a purse--a purse full,
full of money, and I have to take this money to somebody away in
France. Maurice, you saw Aunt Lydia Purcell just now in the street,
and she saw me and you. Once she took that money away from me, and
Jane Parsons brought it back again. And now she saw us, and she saw