Poor unhappy Nadine could stand it no longer! The persistent incredulity of the magistrate cut her to the heart. It was bad enough to have lost her darling sister, and all her money, but in addition to that to be treated like a criminal instead of finding sympathy and assistance, truly it was more than flesh and blood could bear. She sank fainting to the floor in front of the judge's desk.

Up to this point CÆsar, awed by the stern manner of the judge, and, trusting to the superior intelligence and experience of his older sister, had been a silent although deeply moved spectator of the scene. But when Nadine collapsed, he sprang forward, and spoke out in clear brave tones.

"Mr. Magistrate, it is no use your torturing my sister like that. You cannot by so doing compel her to lie. She never deceived anybody in her life. What she has told you, sir, is perfectly true, every word of it. The money that you accuse her of stealing was given her by Madame PradÈre, the lady of the Mayor of the town of Morainville."

"Madame PradÈre!" exclaimed the magistrate, jumping up from his chair. "Did you say Madame PradÈre?"

"Yes, sir," responded CÆsar. "Madame PradÈre who lives in a fine mansion at Morainville."

"PradÈre! PradÈre!" repeated the magistrate. "I know him, he was lieutenant in the regiment when I retired. We were very good friends, PradÈre and I, and we soon shall find out if you are speaking the truth. I shall write immediately to Morainville and institute inquiries into your affair."

"Then we are saved!" cried CÆsar, throwing out his arms in a gesture of relief and joy.

This exclamation was uttered in a tone of such manifest sincerity that the magistrate, who was not really as hard-hearted as he seemed, and who had been severe towards the Tambys because it is the custom in French courts to assume that every person brought them is a criminal, and to compel them to clear themselves, instead of considering them innocent until they were proven guilty, was profoundly impressed. He began to fear that he had been guilty of injustice and undue harshness.

"After all," he reflected somewhat uneasily, "the story told by these children is very touching, and why may it not be true? I know that as a rule these mountebanks are not by any means good characters, but perhaps these orphans are an exception. I must deal more gently with them." So, with a much less severe expression, and softer tone, he said to them, Nadine by this time having recovered her self-possession:

"My children, to-morrow we shall clear up your affairs. I shall write to Morainville requesting an immediate answer, and, if you have told the truth, you shall be free. But I am obliged to recommit you to prison until to-morrow. I shall see, however, that you are well cared for."

"Oh, sir, it doesn't matter so much about us," spoke up Nadine. "We can manage to do without food for a day. We have already done so before, but our animals——"

"Ah! yes, to be sure," responded the magistrate. "You have a horse, which has been put in a stable. You need not worry about him. He will get all he needs."

"But Nalla—what about him?" persisted Nadine, seeming much concerned.

"Nalla!" exclaimed the magistrate rather testily, for he was anxious to be through with the children for the present. "Who is it that you call Nalla?"

"Nalla," interposed the brigadier, "is a very big and dangerous beast, an elephant, which has insisted upon following us, and which at this moment is out there before your door."

The magistrate went to the window and drew aside the curtains. There was Nalla, silent and motionless, surrounded by a curious crowd that took care not to come too near him.

"Oh! ho!" he exclaimed. "What a huge creature? Is he indeed dangerous?"

"He?" replied Nadine, smiling at the idea. "He dangerous? Not a bit of it! He is as kind as possible, and I will guarantee that he does nobody any harm. But as he will not consent to part from us, won't you please permit him to remain at the prison gate until we come out again?"

"Very well, then, if you assure me that he will not do any mischief, I will consent to what you ask," said the magistrate graciously, "and to ease your minds, I may tell you that I will at once give orders that a thorough search of the neighborhood be made for any signs of your sister."

Nadine, her heart somewhat lightened by the promise, thanked the old man, and then the three children were escorted by the gendarmes to the prison.

Here they were confined in a large cell, a bare, comfortless chamber that was all the more objectionable to them because of their being accustomed to such a free open-air life. The only source of cheer that they had was the promise of the sous-prÉfet to write to M. PradÈre about them. But, presently, even this began to cause them uneasiness.

"What if Madame PradÈre should be away from home?" said Nadine with a sigh of apprehension.

"Oh, don't you remember that the kind old gendarme said that she hardly ever went away?" responded CÆsar, cheeringly.

"My dear brother," returned Nadine, "you are doing your best to keep up my spirits, but you see I am not of so hopeful a nature as you are. It's not my fault, CÆsar, indeed it isn't, but I am troubled with dark presentiments. I am weighed down with anxiety that I cannot overcome. It is no doubt due to what has happened during the last two days, for I am greatly upset by it."

Abel joined with CÆsar in well-meant efforts at consolation, and, as during the night before, the children had had no sleep at all, they now began to doze off, and presently all three of them were sound asleep.

But poor Nadine's rest was disturbed by unpleasant dreams, and about midnight she awoke with a shriek of terror.

CÆsar at once woke up and sought to find her hand in the darkness that enshrouded them.

"What is the matter, dear sister?" he asked anxiously. "Are you in pain? Answer me, Nadine, I beg of you."

But Nadine made no reply, and when CÆsar took her hand he found that it was cold as ice. The sorely-tried girl had in fact fallen into a deep swoon.

CÆsar was terrified. Nadine was silent and motionless. Could she be dead? and there they were, shut up in the prison, without any way of getting assistance!

He set up a frantic shouting. He hammered on the massive door with all his might only to get back the dreary echoes of his blows. There was nobody near at that time to hear him. Everybody in Beaulieu was sound asleep.

There was one creature, however, that was awake, and whose keen ears caught the cries CÆsar uttered in his frantic concern. Nalla, keeping patient faithful watch beside the prison-gate, heard his young master, and realizing that he was in trouble at once started trumpeting with all his might.

The appalling sound soon wakened the whole neighborhood, and the startled folk appeared at the windows and doors of their houses, but not one of them ventured to approach the huge animal from which it was proceeding.

On seeing that no one responded to his call Nalla tried to break down the gate of the prison in order to reach his young owners, and set them at liberty. But the gate was too strong. It successfully resisted his assault upon it. Then the wise old creature showed his remarkable intelligence.

He turned from the gate to the railing and with one stroke of his mighty trunk laid low the light iron bars. The way being thus cleared he went out alone into the deserted streets of the town.

Where now was he going with rapid step, and uplifted trunk as though ready to act in his own defense? Certainly he did not need any one to show him the way. He evidently knew just what he was about.

On he went, not in the least bothered by the darkness of the night, until he reached the house to which he had accompanied the children that morning—that is to say, the residence of the magistrate.

Then he came to a halt, and, without any concern for the peaceful slumbers of the honest townsfolk of that quarter, he proceeded to renew his vigorous trumpeting!

The magistrate woke up, and hurried to the window to see what was the matter.

"The elephant which was left shut up in the prison yard!" he exclaimed. "How on earth did he get here? He'll arouse the whole town. Go away, you brute, and be quiet!"

And he closed the window intending to return to bed.

But Nalla had no thought of letting him alone. He repeated his sonorous appeal.

Of course under the circumstances sleep was out of the question for the magistrate. Moreover, the whole neighborhood was stirring, although it was not more than two o'clock of the morning.

Although very angry at first, on second thoughts the old gentleman, so rudely disturbed, began to say to himself:

"After all there may be something amiss, or why has that big brute come here? It can only be to seek me out, and obtain my assistance? I must investigate at once."

So with a certain amount of grumbling he dressed himself, and went down, opening the front door very carefully.

As soon as Nalla saw him he ceased trumpeting, waved his trunk in joyful greeting, and, wheeling around, set off for the prison, the magistrate following meekly in his rear, and marveling at the sagacity displayed by this remarkable creature.

On their arrival they found the gendarmes gathered before the door, having been summoned by the startled neighbors. "Open the door immediately," commanded the magistrate.

The brigadier, who carried a lantern, unlocked the door, and led the way into the prison, while the other gendarmes remained outside, preserving a respectful distance from Nalla, who stood as close as possible to the door, listening intently for every sound.