"We will have four cakes; we will play piquet for them, and Frédéric shall pay the bill." In the evening, a huge bowl of punch was brought, and a plate laden with cakes. They began their game, and drank often to avoid falling asleep, thereby putting themselves to sleep rather earlier than usual. After they had drunk half a bowl each and eaten six or eight tarts and cakes, their heads fell forward. "I am _capot_," said Dubourg. "Show your hand," added Ménard. They woke at daybreak, intensely disgusted to have fallen asleep; but, at all events, Frédéric could not have gone away so early, and they would find him at last. Dubourg called and shouted, but no one answered. He went down into the innyard and asked about his friend. "He didn't come in last night," said the hostler. "Didn't come in!" cried Dubourg; "are you sure?" "Yes, monsieur; neither him nor the horse." "The devil!" ejaculated Dubourg; "this begins to be alarming. To stay out all night--it's very strange." He went up to tell Ménard, and that gentleman, after reflecting for fifteen minutes, inquired: "What do you think about it, monsieur le baron?" "Morbleu! that's what I ask you, Monsieur Ménard?" "I don't dare to form any opinion, monsieur le baron--that's my opinion." "It's very much like Brid'oison's." They passed the day waiting for Frédéric, who did not appear. Dubourg was anxious about his friend, Ménard trembled for his pupil, and the innkeeper would have been disturbed about his horse if he had not had the carriage for security. The next morning, at daybreak, Dubourg appeared at Ménard's bedside, with his hat on his head, and said: "Come, we must find Frédéric." "Let us find him, monsieur le baron." "To find him, we must look for him." "That is what I was thinking, monsieur le baron." "That doesn't seem to prevent your lying quietly in bed." "I am awaiting your final opinion." "My opinion is that we should start at once. That young man has a face and figure so far from commonplace that we must be able to learn which way he went; he can't be lost!" "We must hope not, for what would monsieur le comte his father say to me?" "Get up, then, and come with me." Ménard dressed and breakfasted, and accompanied Dubourg, who ordered saddles placed on two venerable farm horses, which the innkeeper intrusted to them with a bad grace, because their account was beginning to exceed the value of their carriage. At last they were mounted; Ménard warned his companion that he could not ride faster than a walk, and Dubourg replied that when one is making a search he does not travel rapidly. When they left the inn, they inquired and were told which direction Frédéric had taken. All along the road, people had noticed the young horseman who passed every morning, urging his horse to his utmost speed, and returned very slowly in the evening. Dubourg soon learned beyond question that Frédéric rode to Vizille every day. "What does he go there for?" queried Dubourg.