"I for one am delighted to renew my acquaintance with the worthy M. Morel," said Germain, coming forward and extending his hand.
"And your old acquaintances at the lodge beg that they may not be overlooked," chimed in Anastasie, leading Alfred up to the astonished and delighted lapidary. "You know us, don't you, M. Morel,—the Pipelets—the hearty old Pipelets, and your everlasting friends? Come, pluck up courage, and look about you, M. Morel! Hang it all, Daddy Morel, here's a happy meeting! May we see many such! Ail-l-l-l-ez donc!"
"M. Pipelet and his wife! Everybody here! It seems to me so long since—but—but no matter—'tis you, Louise, my child—'tis you, is it not?" exclaimed he, joyfully pressing his daughter in his arms.
"Oh, yes, my dearest father, 'tis your own poor Louise! And there is my mother; here are all our kind friends. You will never quit us more, never know sorrow or care again, and henceforward we shall all be happy and prosperous!"
"Happy? Let me try and recollect a little of past things. I seem to have a faint recollection of your being taken to prison—and—and then, Louise, all seems a blank and confusion here," continued Morel, pressing his hand to his temples.
"Never mind all that, dearest father! I am here and innocent,—let that comfort and console you."
"Stay, stay! That note of hand I gave! Ah, now I remember it all!" cried the lapidary, with shuddering horror. Then, in a voice of assumed calmness, he said, "And what has become of the notary?"
"He is dead, dearest father," murmured Louise.
"Dead? He dead? Then indeed I may hope for happiness! But where am I? How came I here? How long have I left my home, and wherefore was I brought hither? I have no recollection of any of these things!"
"You were extremely ill," said the doctor, "and you were brought here for air and good nursing. You have had a severe fever, and been at times a little lightheaded."