They parted for the night sadly enough. Several days passed, and Adeline did not return. All pleasure and peace of mind had vanished from the farm; Jacques neglected his work, Guillot his fields, the farmer’s wife her household duties; Sans-Souci neglected the farmer’s wife, and everybody was unhappy. No more ballads, merry meals, amusing stories, or descriptions of battles. Sans-Souci was losing hope of Adeline’s return; he bitterly repented having told her of her husband, and he hovered about Jacques, but dared not confess the truth to him. On the eighth day Jacques announced that he was going to start out in search of his sister. Sans-Souci decided then to speak; he took his comrade aside and began by tearing out a handful of hair, and heaving a profound sigh. “What is the meaning of all this groaning?” asked Jacques; “speak, and stop your nonsense.” “Look you, comrade, I am an infernal brute! I am corked up like the barrel of Guillot’s gun, and yet I did everything for the best.” “What do you mean?” “I am the cause of your dear sister’s leaving the farm.” “You! you villain!” “If you don’t forgive me, I’ll put five pounds of lead between my eyebrows.” “Nonsense! Speak, I implore you.” “I found out that your brother was in prison; I didn’t dare to tell you and I didn’t mean to tell his wife either; but she urged me so hard, and you know that women do whatever they want to with me, especially the ones that I respect; and then I thought that she might comfort her husband a little.” “And do you think that I have an iron heart? My brother is unfortunate, that ends it; I forget the way he received me; I too must comfort him.” “Poor Jacques! I was sure of it.” “And yet you kept your mouth shut, you idiot, and you left me consumed with anxiety--Poor woman! Perhaps she is with him!” “Parbleu! there’s no doubt of that!” “Is he in prison in Paris?” “Yes--wait--he is at the Conciergerie.” “He must have spent and sold everything, and his creditors had him arrested!--Ah! if I were rich, brother, how happy I would be to be of some use to you! But fate has willed it otherwise.--No matter; I can at least prove to you that you still have a friend.--Sans-Souci, I am going to Paris.” “So am I; morbleu! I will go with you; I don’t propose to leave you.” “Very well. We won’t say anything to the peasants about my brother’s imprisonment; those excellent people would be quite capable of insisting upon doing still more to assist us, and we must not accept it; they have done enough for us already.” “You are always right. I agree with you; let us go and say good-bye to them; forward!” Jacques and Sans-Souci embraced the peasants and told them that they were going to look for Adeline; then they started for Paris, where they arrived that afternoon.