"You were never bound to him?" "You know that well enough!" "But--Charlot?" "Charlot?" As my eyes turned to the child, hers turned too; then they fell back on me, so puzzled, so clear with innocence, that I was ashamed of my suspicions as though I had offered her an insult. "Oh, nothing," I replied, hastily. "I said 'Charlot' because I thought he was waking up." At that moment a sound of bagpipes reached us from the other side of the river among the oaks, and Brulette trembled like a leaf in the wind. "There!" said I, "the bride's dance is beginning, and I do believe they are sending the music to fetch you." "No, no," said Brulette, who had grown very pale, "neither the air nor the instrument belong to this region. Tiennet, Tiennet, either I am crazy--or he who is down there--" "Do you see him?" I cried, running to the edge of the terrace and looking with all my eyes; "can it be Père Bastien?" "I see no one," she said, having followed me, "but it was not Père Bastien--neither was it Joseph--it was--" "Huriel, perhaps! that seems to me less certain than the river that parts us. But let us go at any rate; we may find a ford, and if he is there we shall certainly catch him, the gay muleteer, and find out what he is thinking about." "No, Tiennet, I can't leave Charlot." "The devil take that child! Then wait for me here; I am going alone." "No, no, no! Tiennet," cried Brulette, holding me with both hands; "it is dangerous to go down that steep place." "Whether I break my neck or not, I am going to put you out of your misery." "What misery?" she exclaimed, still holding me, but recovering from her first agitation by an effort of pride. "What does it matter to me whether Huriel or some one else is in the wood? Do you suppose I want you to run after a man who, knowing I was close by, wanted to pass on?" "If that is what you think," said a soft voice behind us, "I think we had better go away." We turned round at the first word, and there was Thérence, the beautiful Thérence, before our eyes. At the sight Brulette, who had fretted so much at being forgotten by her, lost all her nerve and fell into Thérence's arms with a great burst of tears. "Well, well!" said Thérence, kissing her with the energy of a daughter of the woods. "Did you think I had forgotten our friendship? Why do you judge hardly of people who have never passed a day without thinking of you?" "Tell her quickly if your brother is here, Thérence," I cried, "for--" Brulette, turning quickly, put her hand on my lips, and I caught myself up, adding, with a laugh, "for I am dying to see him." "My brother is over there," said Thérence, "but he does not know you are so near. Listen, he is going farther off; you can hardly hear his music now."