“The little girl is waking up, monsieur; give her some bonbons and try to make out the name she mentions.”
Gerval went to Ermance and kissed her; the child recognized him and went to him of her own accord. He gave her bonbons, danced her on his knees, and she lisped the name of Jacques; for it was Jacques who played with her and danced with her every evening.
“One would say that she knows you, monsieur,” said Dupré to his master; “I believe it is Jacques she says; just listen.”
“Poor child; it is true. Perhaps that is her father’s name. Let us try to find out if that is really the name she is lisping; if it is, her mother knows it without any question.”
The old man walked toward Adeline, uttering the name of Jacques in a loud voice. The young woman instantly arose and repeated the name.
“Good! she understood us,” whispered Dupré.
“You are looking for Jacques,” said Adeline to Monsieur Gerval; “oh! in pity’s name, do not tell him this horrible secret; let him always remain ignorant of his shame! Poor Jacques! he would die of grief. Oh! promise me that you will say nothing to him.”
Honest Gerval promised, and Dupré sadly shook his head.
“It is of no use,” he said to his master, “there is no hope.—But what is your plan?”
“We must make all possible investigations. You, Dupré, will go to Villeneuve-Saint-Georges, and inquire about all the Jacqueses there are in the village; in short, you will try to find out something. If we cannot discover anything then, I will see what——”