"He has probably found some charming view." "I think it's more likely to be some charming face." "What! monsieur le baron, you think----" "Why, yes; Frédéric isn't fool enough to stare at nothing but trees and mountains all day. He was in search of a heart that would sympathize with his, a nature as loving as his own--in a word, a woman who would take his fancy; and who knows that he hasn't found some artless, simple-minded peasant girl who has turned his head?" "For my part, I'll wager that he spends his time looking at the Grande Chartreuse." "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 moerens Philomela sub umbra Amissos queritur foetus!'" "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." On leaving the village, they had gone down into the valley, and were now on the outskirts of the forest, where Frédéric's horse was wandering at will along the paths leading into the valley. "That's his horse," said Ménard. "I know him by that white spot; I've seen him in the innyard; it's Frédéric's horse. And he's alone, without a rider. An additional proof, monsieur le baron, that the young man has fallen a victim to his imprudence. The horse undoubtedly threw him; my pupil is dead; he probably tried to climb one of these mountains; it was dark and he couldn't see the road at his feet. All is lost!"