As my eyes turned to the child, hers turned too; then they fell back on me, so puzzled, so clear with innocence, that I was ashamed of my suspicions as though I had offered her an insult.
"Oh, nothing," I replied, hastily. "I said 'Charlot' because I thought he was waking up."
At that moment a sound of bagpipes reached us from the other side of the river among the oaks, and Brulette trembled like a leaf in the wind.
"There!" said I, "the bride's dance is beginning, and I do believe they are sending the music to fetch you."
"No, no," said Brulette, who had grown very pale, "neither the air nor the instrument belong to this region. Tiennet, Tiennet, either I am crazy—or he who is down there—"
"Do you see him?" I cried, running to the edge of the terrace and looking with all my eyes; "can it be Père Bastien?"
"I see no one," she said, having followed me, "but it was not Père Bastien—neither was it Joseph—it was—"
"Huriel, perhaps! that seems to me less certain than the river that parts us. But let us go at any rate; we may find a ford, and if he is there we shall certainly catch him, the gay muleteer, and find out what he is thinking about."
"No, Tiennet, I can't leave Charlot."
"The devil take that child! Then wait for me here; I am going alone."