Mother Meraut looked at him in surprise.  “Why, haven’t I told you? " she said “My mind has been so full of it I can’t believe you didn’t know that we are going to my father’s, if we can get there!  You know their village is on a little stream which flows into the Aisne some distance beyond its junction with the Vesle.  We could drift down to the place where the two rivers join, and go on from there to the little stream which flows past Fontanelle.  Then we could row up-stream to the village.”

“It’s as plain as day, now you tell it,” answered her husband, “and a very good plan, too.”

“You see,” said Mother Meraut, as she packed away the remains of the lunch, “I haven’t heard a word from them all winter.  I don’t know whether they are dead or alive.  I haven’t said anything about it, because you were so ill and there were so many other worries, but this plan has been in my mind all the time.  What we shall do when we get to Fontanelle I do not know, but we shall be no worse off than other refugees, and at any rate we shall not be under shell-fire every day.”

“If we can’t find any place to stay there, why can’t we go on and on down the river, until we get clear to the sea,” said Pierre with enthusiasm.

“It’s just like being gypsies, isn’t it?” added Pierrette.

“So far as I can see,” said Mother Meraut, “we’ve got to go on and on!  Certainly we can’t go back.”

“No, we can’t go back,” echoed her husband, with a sigh.

All the pleasant afternoon they drifted peacefully along, and nightfall found them in open country.  It began to grow colder as darkness came on.  “We shall need all our blankets if we are to sleep in the fields,” said Mother Meraut at last.  “It’s time for supper and bed, anyway.  Let’s go ashore.”

“We’ll build a fire on the bank and cook our supper there,” said her husband.

“What is there, Mother, that we can cook?”

“There are eggs to fry, and potatoes to roast in the ashes,” she answered, " and coffee besides.”

“I am as hungry as a wolf,” said Pierrette.

“I’m as hungry as two wolves,” said Pierre.

They found a landing-place, and the Ark was drawn ashore.  Pierre and Pierrette ran at once to gather sticks and leaves.  These they brought to their Father, and soon a cheerful fire flamed red against the shadows.  Then the smell of coffee floated out upon the evening air, and the sputter of frying eggs gave further promise to their hungry stomachs.

Before they had finished their supper the stars were winking down at them, and over the brow of a distant hill rose a slender crescent moon.  Pierrette saw it first.  “Oh,” she cried, “the new moon!  And I saw it over my right shoulder, too!  We are sure to have wonderful luck this month.”

Pierre shut his eyes.  “Which way is it?” he cried.  Pierrette turned him carefully about so that he too might see it over his right shoulder, and then, this ceremony completed, they washed the dishes and helped pack the things carefully away in the clothes-basket once more.