“All right, monsieur,” said Catherine; “but you see that we are certain now that she is married, that her husband has a brother, and that with all the rest there is some miserable fellow who makes love to her, and whom she is afraid of! Oh! I can guess the trouble easily enough! I’ll bet that it’s that same fellow who enticed the husband to Paris, where he forgot his wife and child! Pardi! that’s sure to be the result. Oh! what a pity that I can’t make her talk more! We should soon know everything.”
But as the excellent woman did not wish to arouse the stranger’s excitement, she dared not ask her questions. She often walked with Adeline in the woods about the house; one or the other of them carried Ermance; the old servant watched every movement of the young woman, she listened carefully to the words that fell from her mouth, put them together, and based conjectures upon them; but after three months, she knew no more than on the second day.
Once, however, an unforeseen event disturbed Adeline’s monotonous life. She was walking with her daughter on a hillside a short distance from the village. Catherine followed her, admiring the graceful figure, the charming features and bearing of the unfortunate young woman, and saying to herself:
“That woman wasn’t born in a cabin; her manners and her language show that she belongs in good society! And to think that we shall never know who she is! It’s enough to drive one mad.”
A young peasant had climbed a tree to steal a nest; his foot slipped, and a branch at which he grasped broke at the same time; he fell to the ground, wounded himself badly in the head, and uttered a lamentable cry.
That cry was heard by Adeline, who was then near the wounded man; she instantly stopped and began to tremble; terror was depicted upon her features, and her eyes sought the ground as if they feared to rest upon an object which horrified her; suddenly she took her child and fled through the woods. In vain did Catherine run after her, calling to her; Adeline’s strength was redoubled, and Catherine’s shouts augmented her frenzy; she climbed the steepest paths without taking breath; she scarcely touched the ground; she rushed into the mountains and the old servant soon lost sight of her.
Catherine returned to her master in despair, and told him what had happened. Monsieur Gerval knew that all the peasants were devoted to him, and he sent Dupré and Lucas to beg them to search the whole district. The good people made haste to beat up the forest. Success crowned their zealous efforts; they found Adeline lying at the foot of a tree; fever had given place to exhaustion, and the fugitive had been unable to go farther.
They placed her on a litter hastily constructed of the branches of trees, and carried her and her daughter back to their benefactor’s house. The old man dismissed the villagers, after lauding their zeal, and devoted his whole attention to pacifying the poor invalid, whom the young peasant’s plaintive cry had cast into a more violent attack of delirium than any that she had had since her arrival in the Vosges.
In the throes of constantly returning terror, Adeline talked more than usual, and Catherine did not leave her side. But she shuddered at the broken phrases that the stranger uttered:
“Take him from that scaffold!” Adeline exclaimed again and again, putting her hands before her eyes. “In pity’s name, do not give him to the executioners! They are going to kill him! I hear his voice! But no, that plaintive cry did not come from his mouth; that was another victim.—Oh! I cannot be mistaken, I recognize his tones; they always go to my heart!”