"No one," said Colorat. "The girl felt that she was ruined; she was
afraid to stay in her own village. She went to Paris. What is she doing
there? Well, that's the question; but you might as well hunt for a
marble among the stones on that plain as look for her there."

They were now riding up the ascent to the chateau as Colorat pointed to
the plain below. Madame Sauviat, evidently uneasy, Aline and the other
servants were waiting at the gate, not knowing what to think of this
long absence.

"My dear," said Madame Sauviat, helping her daughter to dismount, "you
must be very tired."

"No, mother," replied Madame Graslin, in so changed a voice that Madame
Sauviat looked closely at her and then saw the mark of tears.

Madame Graslin went to her own rooms with Aline, who took her orders for
all that concerned her personal life. She now shut herself up and would
not even admit her mother; when Madame Sauviat asked to enter, Aline
stopped her, saying, "Madame has gone to sleep."

The next day Veronique rode out attended by Maurice only. In order to
reach the Roche-Vive as quickly as possible she took the road by which
she had returned the night before. As they rode up the gorge which lies
between the mountain peak and the last hill of the forest (for, seen
from the plain, the Roche-Vive looks isolated) Veronique requested
Maurice to show her the house in which Farrabesche lived and then to
hold the horses and wait for her; she wished to go alone. Maurice took
her to a path which led down on the other side of the Roche-Vive and
showed her the thatched roof of a dwelling half buried in the mountain,
below which lay the nursery grounds. It was then about mid-day. A light
smoke issued from the chimney. Veronique reached the cottage in a few
moments, but she did not make her presence known at once. She stood a
few moments lost in thoughts known only to herself as she gazed on the
modest dwelling which stood in the middle of a garden enclosed with a
hedge of thorns.

Beyond the lower end of the garden lay several cares of meadow land
surrounded by an evergreen hedge; the eye looked down on the flattened
tops of fruit trees, apple, pear, and plum trees scattered here and
there among these fields. Above the house, toward the crest of the
mountain where the soil became sandy, rose the yellow crowns of a
splendid grove of chestnuts. Opening the railed gate made of half-rotten
boards which enclosed the premises, Madame Graslin sa