ith the worthy M.
Morel," said Germain, coming forward and extending his hand.

"And your old acquaintances at the lodge beg that they may not be
overlooked," chimed in Anastasie, leading Alfred up to the astonished
and delighted lapidary. "You know us, don't you, M. Morel,--the
Pipelets--the hearty old Pipelets, and your everlasting friends? Come,
pluck up courage, and look about you, M. Morel! Hang it all, Daddy
Morel, here's a happy meeting! May we see many such! _Ail-l-l-l-ez
donc!_"

"M. Pipelet and his wife! Everybody here! It seems to me so long
since--but--but no matter--'tis you, Louise, my child--'tis you, is it
not?" exclaimed he, joyfully pressing his daughter in his arms.

"Oh, yes, my dearest father, 'tis your own poor Louise! And there is my
mother; here are all our kind friends. You will never quit us more,
never know sorrow or care again, and henceforward we shall all be happy
and prosperous!"

"Happy? Let me try and recollect a little of past things. I seem to have
a faint recollection of your being taken to prison--and--and then,
Louise, all seems a blank and confusion here," continued Morel, pressing
his hand to his temples.

"Never mind all that, dearest father! I am here and innocent,--let that
comfort and console you."

"Stay, stay! That note of hand I gave! Ah, now I remember it all!" cried
the lapidary, with shuddering horror. Then, in a voice of assumed
calmness, he said, "And what has become of the notary?"

"He is dead, dearest father," murmured Louise.

"Dead? He dead? Then indeed I may hope for happiness! But where am I?
How came I here? How long have I left my home, and wherefore was I
brought hither? I have no recollection of any of these things!"

"You were extremely ill," said the doctor, "and you were brought here
for air and good nursing. You have had a severe fever, and been at times
a little lightheaded."

"Yes, yes, I recollect now; and when I was taken ill I remember I was
talking with my daughter, and some other person,--who could it be? Ah,
now I know!--a kind, good man, named M. Rodolph, who saved me from being
arrested. Afterwards, strange to say, I cannot recall a single
circumstance."

"Your illness was attended with an entire absence of memory," said the
doctor.

"And in whose house am I now?"

"In that of your friend, M. Rodolph," interposed Germain, hastily; "it
was thought that country air would be serviceable to you, and promote
your recovery."

"Exc