ognizing the tall figure of her
husband.

She waved her handkerchief. Philippe answered the signal.

"It's he!" she said, almost swooning. "It's he, mamma.... I am sure that
he'll be able to tell us everything ... and that M. Morestal is not far
off...."

"Let us go and meet them," Suzanne suggested.

"Yes, I'll go," said Marthe, quickly. "You stay here, Suzanne ... stay
with mamma."

She darted away, eager to be the first to welcome Philippe and
recovering enough strength to run to the bottom of the slope:

"Philippe! Philippe!" she cried. "You are back at last...."

He lifted her off the ground and pressed her to him:

"My darling, I hear that you have been uneasy.... You need not have
been.... I will tell you all about it...."

"Yes, you will tell us.... But come ... come quick and kiss your mother
and reassure her...."

She dragged him along. They climbed the staircase and, on reaching the
terrace, he suddenly found himself in the presence of Suzanne, who was
waiting, convulsed with jealousy and hatred. Philippe's emotion was so
great that he did not even offer her his hand. Besides, at that moment,
Mme. Morestal ran up to him:

"Your father?"

"Alive."

And Suzanne, in her turn:

"Papa?"

"Alive also.... They have both been carried off by the German police,
near the frontier."

"What? Prisoners?"

"Yes."

"They haven't hurt them?"

The three women all stood round him and pressed him with questions. He
replied, laughing:

"A little calmness, first.... I confess I feel rather dazed.... This
makes two exciting nights.... Also, I am simply starving."

His shoes and clothes were grey with dust. There was blood on one of his
shirt-cuffs.

"You are wounded!" cried Marthe.

"No ... not I.... I'll explain to you...."

Catherine brought him a cup of coffee, which he swallowed greedily, and
he began:

"It was about five o'clock in the morning when I got up; and I certainly
had no idea, when I left my room ..."

Marthe was stupefied. Why did Philippe say that he had slept there? Did
he not know that his absence had been discovered? But then why tell
that lie?

She instinctively placed herself in front of Suzanne and in front of her
mother; and, as Philippe had broken off, himself embarrassed by the
obvious commotion which he had caused, she asked him:

"So, last evening, you left your father and M. Jorance?..."

"At the Carrefour du Grand-Chene."

"Yes, so Suzanne told us. And you ca