"Perhaps Philippe spent the night in a chair...."
Marthe shrugged her shoulders; and Philippe, utterly at a loss, trying to make up another version, did not even answer. He remained dumb, like a child caught at fault.
"Come, Philippe," asked Marthe, "what's underneath this? Didn't you come straight back?"
"No," he admitted.
"You came back by the frontier?"
"Yes."
"Then why conceal it? I couldn't very well be anxious now, seeing that you are here."
"That's just it!" cried Philippe, plunging at a venture along this path. "That's just it! I did not want to tell you that I had spent the night looking for my father."
"The night! Then you knew before this morning that he had been carried off?"
"Yes, last evening."