“She has gone!” repeated the whole family sadly.
“Oh! that ain’t possible,” said Guillot.
“Here, read this;” and Jacques threw down in front of the farmer the paper that Adeline had left. Guillot took it and gazed at it earnestly for some moments.
“Well!” said Sans-Souci, walking toward him, “what does she say?”
“You see, I don’t know how to read,” replied Guillot, still staring at the paper. Sans-Souci snatched it from his hands and read it aloud.
“You see she tells us not to be worried about her absence,” said Louise; “she will come back soon, I’m sure.”
“Oh! so far as that goes, I will answer for it too,” said Guillot; “she wouldn’t leave us without saying good-bye to us, that’s sure!”
Sans-Souci agreed with the peasants, and he tried to comfort his friend.
“But where has she gone?” said Jacques. “Why this sudden departure? She didn’t seem to have any idea of it yesterday; and for a young woman, weak as she is, to travel with a child that has to be carried—She will make herself sick. Ah! she must have had some news from Paris. Ten thousand bayonets! If I knew that anything had been kept from me——”
As he said this, Jacques’s eyes turned toward Sans-Souci, who looked at the floor, twisted his moustache and utterly failed to conceal his embarrassment.