"Let us go and meet them," Suzanne suggested.
"Yes, I'll go," said Marthe, quickly. "You stay here, Suzanne ... stay with mamma."
She darted away, eager to be the first to welcome Philippe and recovering enough strength to run to the bottom of the slope:
"Philippe! Philippe!" she cried. "You are back at last...."
He lifted her off the ground and pressed her to him:
"My darling, I hear that you have been uneasy.... You need not have been.... I will tell you all about it...."
"Yes, you will tell us.... But come ... come quick and kiss your mother and reassure her...."
She dragged him along. They climbed the staircase and, on reaching the terrace, he suddenly found himself in the presence of Suzanne, who was waiting, convulsed with jealousy and hatred. Philippe's emotion was so great that he did not even offer her his hand. Besides, at that moment, Mme. Morestal ran up to him:
"Your father?"
"Alive."