Madam and Miss Yurvalmon drove on one evening.

They had been visiting people in town, and they were on their way back to their plantation,

and they headed for the city gate.

It was a nice evening.

Warm.

It was the Louisiana they were all basically warm, but now the fall breeze was blowing.

They had a soft chill, a ton of a cool night to come.

Madam and Vellmon hugged her husband close as he drove the carriage.

Looking back, years later, she didn't know how she'd heard it.

The horses were galloping, the frogs croaking, and the carriage creaking.

She didn't know how she heard the cries above it all, but she had.

When they passed through the gate, she'd spun around instinctively.

That's when Madam and Vellmon saw her.

She screamed out for her husband to stop the carriage, and he pulled back on the reins.

Madam and Vellmon was out of the carriage before it even came to a complete stop.

The husband didn't need to ask why.

When he stopped the carriage, he could hear her, too.

A toddler, a bandit, and crying in the shadow of the pillar.

Madam and Vellmon ran to the little one, and scooped her up, looking around in all directions.

But there was no one in sight, and it was growing darker by the minute.

It looked as if the child had just been left there, all alone.

She brought the toddler to Missyervaumond, and the girl practically leapt into his open arms.

...