"Consider, Monsieur Ménard, that Frédéric is only twenty-one."
"Remember, monsieur le baron, that women have deceived him many times, and that he left Paris to avoid them."
"Is that any reason why he should never love another woman? Indeed, Monsieur Ménard, when a man runs away from a thing, it's because he feels that he couldn't resist it long."
"Joseph fled from Potiphar's wife, monsieur le baron; but it was not for fear of giving way to her."
"Joseph allowed himself to be seduced at last, Monsieur Ménard, for his posterity peopled Canaan."
Arguing thus, they arrived at Vizille. They inquired about Frédéric in the village; but the villagers, being busily employed, had paid little attention to the young man, who had dined at the inn only twice; for we have seen that he dined in the woods on what Sister Anne brought him. They had seen him several times, to be sure, but they had not noticed in which direction he went, or what he did in the village. So Dubourg and his companion left Vizille, knowing little more than when they arrived.
"All is lost!" cried Ménard, from time to time; "my pupil must have been eaten by wolves or killed by highwaymen, or else he has fallen over a precipice while watching a sunset! Poor Frédéric! so gentle, amiable, and well-informed! there is nothing left for me but to weep for you!
"'Qualis populea mœrens Philomela sub umbra
Amissos queritur fœtus!'"
"Oh! no, Monsieur Ménard; Frédéric hasn't been killed or eaten. There's no question here of a resemblance to Philomela weeping for her children; what we have to do is to find out where the young man has gone. Ah! look yonder—there's an animal who could give us some information about him, I fancy."