All Toby's temporary degeneration of character had vanished since
his walk to Dover. He was as alert as ever in his care of Maurice, as
anxiously solicitous for Cecile's benefit, and had also developed a
remarkable and valuable faculty for finding small towns and out-of-
the-way villages, where Cecile's slender store of money could be
spent to the best advantage.

On board the small boat which had brought the children across the
Channel, Cecile's piquant and yet pathetic face had won the captain's
good favor. He had not only given all three their passage for
nothing, but had got the little girl to confide sufficiently in
him to find out that she carried money with her. He asked her if
it was French or English money, and on her taking out her precious
Russia-leather purse from its hiding-place, and producing with
trembling hands an English sovereign, he had changed it into small
and useful French money, and had tried to make the child comprehend
the difference between the two. When they got to Calais he managed to
land the children without the necessity of a passport, of which, of
course, Cecile knew nothing. What more he might have done was never
revealed, for Cecile, Maurice, and Toby were quickly lost sight of in
the bustle on the quay.

The little trio walked off--Cecile, at least, feeling very
triumphant--and never paused, until obliged to do so, owing to
Maurice's weariness.

"We will find a village at once now, Maurice," said his little
sister. She called Toby, whistled to him, gave him to understand what
they wanted, and the dog, with a short bark and glance of