"This is all true, my friends; he just made oath to it in German." But, after a fortnight, Dubourg began to tire of telling the peasants fairy tales in the evening and making love to their wives during the day; and he determined to leave the village, and go in search of news of his former companions. He still had in his pocket, untouched, the hundred francs he had earned by acting Hippolyte; with that amount he could safely set out without being obliged to disguise himself as a strange beast. Despite all that Claudine could do to detain him, he determined to go. He thanked the mayor, Latouche, and all the villagers for their kind treatment. He thanked Bertrand, and especially his wife, with peculiar warmth. Then, with a stout knotted stick in his hand, which harmonized with his jacket, and a broad-brimmed hat in place of his wig, he left the village, saying to himself: "Those people who saw me playing the swell will never recognize me; and that is precisely what I desire." However, he deemed it prudent to avoid Voreppe, where he might fall in with Floridor or some member of his troupe. Nor did he care to pass through Grenoble, where Durosey might still be lying in wait for him, and a creditor's eyes are not easily deceived. So he headed for Vizille, where he hoped to find Frédéric, or, at least, to learn something about him. He strode gayly along, singing all the time, and sitting down on the grass to eat the provisions with which Claudine had filled his pockets; for women think of everything. Dubourg blessed Madame Bertrand's foresight. "How can I be melancholy," he thought, "when I have had ample proof, a hundred times over, that tender-hearted women will always take an interest in my fate! Here's to Claudine's health, and Madame Chambertin's, and Goton's, and little Delphine's, and all the others to whom I owe so many pleasant hours and delicious memories." He drank their healths in water from a brook, for he could adapt himself to anything. Moreover, he had money and might have wine, which consideration made the water seem less disagreeable. Toward nightfall, he drew near Vizille. "If monsieur le comte learned of Frédéric's amourette from Ménard," he said to himself, "he probably came here after him, and I shall not find him; but I shall find the pretty blonde, and she will tell me what has happened." He did not then know that the poor girl could not tell him anything. He walked through the valley, entered the woods, looked about, and called, but saw no one. At last he discovered the cabin; he entered the garden, which was deserted; then he went into the little house, where he found no one but old Marguerite, dozing in her big armchair.