He had scarcely finished the last, when we heard loud shouts, and upon going to look out of the window, we saw Louise and Augustine running towards the castle. Cécile, who was braver, had remained stoutly where she was, and had looked towards the river with more curiosity than alarm.
"Bravo!" said I to Adolphe, "Manceau has made his appearance."
We quickly went down.
"A ghost! a ghost!" cried Louise and Augustine; "there is a ghost in the river!"
"Oh! my God," said de Leuven—"can it be that the spirit of poor Manceau is already borne down below?"
It was not his spirit, but his body. By dint of struggling with his cords, Manceau had freed one arm, then both; his two arms freed, he had taken the handkerchief off his mouth: when ungagged, he had called out for help; unfortunately, the gardener was at the opposite end of the garden. He had tried hard to untie the cords which bound his legs, as he had done those binding his hands; but, to do so, he would have to put his head under the water; and, as Madame Capelle had said, the unlucky doctor did not know how to swim, and was restrained from any such attempt by the fear of being suffocated. At last his cries attracted the attention of the young girls; but at sight of the figure wrapped in a sheet and making despairing gesticulations, fear had taken possession of them, and not having the least notion that Manceau would be discovered in the middle of the river, shrouded in such a garment, they had shrieked at the apparition and had flown away. They sent to the unhappy Manceau the gardener for whom he had called so loudly. He clamoured vehemently for his clothes. He had been in the river from seven in the morning until noon, and although it was towards the end of July, the bath was infinitely too protracted, and had made him somewhat chilly. He was put to bed with a hot bottle. From that moment Manceau was the object of general pity, and we of universal execration. For, God be merciful to him a sinner, Manceau had been cowardly enough to denounce us. It was in vain for de Leuven to show his hands as red as crabs and to offer to show the rest of his body, which was as red as his hands; in vain did Hippolyte collect the frogs scattered about his room and bring them into the drawing-room; in vain did I fetch the cock, with which I had held discourse all the night, from the barnyard: nothing moved our judges; we were banished from society, for deliberate attempted homicide in the matter of Doctor Manceau. So we promised ourselves to drown him out and out the first chance we got.
Banished from the society of the ladies, I took refuge in the billiard-room, where Maurice gave me my first lesson in billiards. We shall see that this lesson stood me in good stead, and that, four years later, at a solemn occasion in my life, I practised the art of cannoning, wherein I had made some progress. Our punishment lasted throughout that evening, which the young ladies spent in Louise's room, as it was raining. De Leuven made several attempts to get into that chamber, but was repulsed each time. A great change had come over him since four o'clock in the afternoon, after a conversation he had had with his father, in which the elder man had seemed to me to sneer at him strangely.
Adolphe grew very restless, almost gloomy, and although he was determinedly kept out of Louise's room—where she was holding a gathering of her girl-friends, as I have mentioned—he went back persistently again and again. "Ah! I see," I said to myself, after a moment's reflection, "he wants to obtain news of his quatrain and to know how it has succeeded." And, satisfied with my reasoning, I did not look any farther for the cause of de Leuven's insistence. But I regretted I had not the means with which partial nature had endowed Adolphe, to cause my shortcomings to be forgiven. I was pursued by this regret when in Hippolyte's room, where we withdrew, questioning each other what had become of de Leuven, who had not been seen for an hour, when suddenly we heard a great noise in the midst of which we could make out the words, "Stop thief!" echoing through the castle. As we were still dressed, we dashed out of our room and quickly descended the staircase. At the foot of the staircase was M. Collard in his nightshirt, holding Adolphe by his coat collar. It was an extraordinary sight. M. Collard looked furious and Adolphe exceedingly penitent. In the meantime, M. de Leuven, who had not yet gone to bed, arrived on the scene, as imperturbable as ever, his hands in his trousers pockets, chewing a toothpick, after his usual fashion. This toothpick was an indispensable item in M. de Leuven's life.
"Well, well! What is the matter now, Collard? What have you against my boy?"
"What have I? what have I?" shrieked M. Collard, growing more and more exasperated. "I have something that cannot be overlooked."