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They turned westward now in a direction which Tom thought would bring them about opposite the Alsatian town of Norne. A day's journey took them out of the forest proper into a rocky region of sparse vegetation from which they could see the river winding ribbonlike in the distance.
Killed October 12th, 1845. ELAPS. Native name NORN or NORNE. Whole body covered with spear shaped scales; head shining black; the ground colours of the back rich umber, almost black; scuta 161, of a dirty red orange; fangs two on each side of the upper jaw near the lios, small, and bent inwards; tongue forked This is the most fatal of the New Holland snakes; the animal bitten seldom recovers.
Tom forgot all about the good old scout rule to do a good turn every day and camouflaged his manners by doing a bad turn every minute or as nearly that as possible. It was good camouflage, and got them safely through the streets of Norne, where they must do considerable hunting to find the home of old Melotte's friend Blondel.
There is nothing like a map to show one "where he is at," to quote Archer's phrase, and the boys followed with great interest as Melotte penciled the course of the Rhine and the places which he wished to emphasize in the southern part of Alsace. "Here at Norne lives my comrade, Blondel," he said. "Two years we work togezzer at Passake you know? In ze great silk mills."
"Anyway, there's no use of our scrapping about it 'cause I don't suppose we'll find her. As long as we're going south through the mountains we might as well see if we can pick out Norne with the glass. Maybe we could even see that feller Blondel's house.
A woman with a baby in her arms appeared in the doorway and stared at them then banged the door shut. They were greatly elated at their success and considered the taking of the boat as a war measure, as probably the poor German woman did too. Once upon the other side they walked boldly into the considerable town of Norne and over the first paved streets which they had seen in many a day.
They wondered if he were altogether sane. "Nuzzing can zey hide from Melotte," he went on. "Far south, near Basel, zere lives my comrade Blondel. To him must you show your button yess. In Norne he lives." "We'll write that down," said Tom. "Nuzzing you write down," the old man said sharply, clutching Tom's arm. "In your brain where you are so clevaire zere you write it. So!
There was the town of Norne, and just west of it a road with tiny figures distributed along it. Archer was all a-quiver as he took the glass. "I can see the house," he said; "it's right near the road, it's got a flag on it. When the light strikes it you can see the black spot. Oh, look, look!" "I can't look when you've got the glass," said Tom in his dull way.
Of course, he no longer cherished any hope of finding Florette Leteur; Archer's chiding words still lingered in his mind, and, moreover, without the glass he could do nothing for he certainly would never have thought of entering Norne without first "piking" it from a safe vantage point.
So Tom had to content himself with the old man's rather rambling directions. Several things remained indelibly impressed on his mind. Old Melotte had told him that upon the western bank of the Rhine about fifteen miles above the Swiss border was an old gray castle with three turrets, and that directly opposite this and not far from the Alsatian bank was the little village of Norne.
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