“The dog acts as if he wanted to go home!”
“In that case,” said Edmond, “that is where the ladies have gone, hoping to find us there.”
“No, there must be something else,” said Paul; “that note that they received—who could have written it, as no one of us did? Ami’s barking means anger, yes, frantic passion. Something tells me that that infernal woman has had a hand in this business too.”
The dog, which was still far in advance, turned to the left toward the river; when he reached the bridge, his barking became fiercer than ever; but in a minute he leaped upon the bridge and darted across.
“He certainly is going to your house,” said Edmond.
“No,—see! on leaving the bridge he turned—he is running along the bank of the river; he no longer hesitates, he is on the scent.”
“Mon Dieu! what can have happened?—Agathe! Honorine!—Poor women! Can it be that you came in this direction to look for us?”
“If they came here, they must have been lured by wilfully false information. Let us go on! Ami won’t deceive us!”
“Ah! look! Ami has gone down to the brink of the stream; he is helping someone to save himself.”
“Why, no, he isn’t; on the contrary, he is preventing a man from coming ashore; see! he rushes at him, snaps at him, bites him whenever he tries to leave the water.”