Matthieu ran from him, easily darting among the large rocks and small pebbles, like a deer that has caught a wind, and and runs from the hunter. Francis would have smiled at the allusion, except for the fact that he was falling behind.
Still, Jean-Louis and Felice were still waiting for them in the town- prepared to make their escape as they tended to the engine, and made rounds to find the most likely escape route.
He only hoped that he and Matthieu would be able to transport the missing pair to the rendez-vous point.
Another moment.
Matthew's gray coat had vanished past some trees that were leaning close to the water.
Son petit, he had said something about having been with his brother in his dream. The waking moment had been-
Had the boys ever exchanged places in their minds, or been in control of the other, even for a moment? Could they sense when the other was watching, or-
That could prove to be awkward in some situations.
He would have to ask Canada. That is, once he caught up with the younger man.
Around the bend, and nearly falling into the stream as he stepped upon a loose rock. Francis hoped that neither of their quarry had found this- pneumonia from a soaking, or drowning in the cold river did not seem like they would be helpful right now.
A moment later, France spied Canada, leaning over and looking as though he were catching his breath.
"Ah, mon cher, you run far to fast-" Francis tried to double his speed, in order to start asking his questions of Canada. If it had been Alfred who asked of him where he was, the answer might have made him leery of allowing his twin to-
"Al..." Matthieu's voice was quiet, and the only reason that Francis could hear the name spoken was the sudden gust of wind that blew it back to him.
And then the boy collapsed.