"She is at home!" cried Edouard, as they perceived a light in the window of the first floor. "Ah! my friend, let us stop a moment; my heart is beating so violently. She is in her room! I was so afraid that I should not see her again; I was in despair lest we should not arrive soon enough. Ah! you were right, Alfred; when one is in trouble, one adds to it by one's imagination! But her window is closed; I cannot see her as I could last night. I would like to see her without her knowing that I am here!"

"As you mean to speak to her for the last time, of course she must know that you are here. Shall we not knock? Or do you prefer to call her?"

"I don't know--wait a moment; suppose there was someone with her! Do you see any light in the White House?"

"No."

"How can we make sure that she is alone? Suppose that your father were there? Let us wait; perhaps she will open her window, or will come out to go to the White House."

The young men waited several minutes; Edouard kept his eyes fixed on the window in which the light shone.

"It is very strange," he said at last; "I can see no shadow through the curtains, the light does not move at all, and there is not the slightest sound to indicate that she is there. And yet, in this lonely valley, the least movement can easily be heard. Alfred, there is something absolutely terrifying in this stillness."

"More of your black ideas! For heaven's sake, what do you suppose has happened to her? Are thieves or brigands ever seen in this region?"

"Come, let us go near the house, perhaps we shall hear something."

Alfred followed Edouard; they went close to the door; but the most profound silence continued to reign in Isaure's home.

Suddenly Edouard, struck by a sudden thought, exclaimed:

"Great heavens! here we are standing close against the door, and Vaillant does not bark, although he always divines the presence of a stranger a long distance away!"

"That is strange, in very truth," said Alfred.

"I cannot resist any longer, let us knock."

Edouard knocked on the door, gently at first, then a little louder; but no sound indicated that anyone proposed to admit them.

"Isaure! Isaure! it is I," said Edouard, standing under the window; "I have come to bid you farewell before going away from here. Are you not willing to see me?"

There was no reply. Edouard's distress and excitement were extreme.

"Can it be that she has sworn never to speak to me again, not to listen to me?" he cried; and in his anger he knocked loudly on the door.

Thereupon a low groan, a plaintive sound, which seemed to come from behind the house, answered the clamor that Edouard was making.

"Did you hear?" he asked Alfred.

"Yes, I thought----"

"There, listen again; that mournful sound echoed in my heart. Some calamity has happened to Isaure. We must go into this house."

Alfred, who now fully shared Edouard's fears, seconded his efforts to force the door of the cottage. The lock alone held it; that broken, the two young men entered the lower room, where it was pitch dark.

"Let us go upstairs, let us go to her room at once," said Edouard, feeling for the staircase; he found it and ran rapidly up; he soon reached the room where the light was; the door was not locked. Edouard, followed by Alfred, entered the girl's room, but they found it empty, and observed there a disorder which was not natural. The bureau-drawers were open, and several female garments were scattered about the floor; it seemed as if some few things had been taken in haste, and several pieces of money which lay on the floor indicated that someone had also taken possession of the cash contained in that piece of furniture.

"She is not here!" cried Edouard, gazing about him in dismay. "But what is the meaning of this disorder? Has someone taken her away by force?

Has she been torn from this house against her will?"

"Come," said Alfred, taking the lamp; "let us search the house, we may perhaps discover some clew. Let us find out first where that noise we heard came from."

They went downstairs, entered every room, called Isaure, and received no answer; but, as they pa.s.sed near the yard which separated the house from the garden, they heard once more the plaintive moan which had impressed them before. They went into the yard, and traces of blood caught their eyes. Edouard's heart stood still; but in a moment he shuddered with horror as he saw Vaillant lying by the garden gate, wounded in several places, bathed in blood, but trying to drag himself to those whom he recognized as his mistress's friends.

"It is Vaillant! He has been murdered!" cried Edouard. "Ah! some horrible thing has happened, my friend! Brigands, murderers have forced their way into this house! But what have they done with Isaure? They have killed him who tried to defend her, and I was not here! Poor Vaillant! He seems to be asking me where his mistress is. They must have taken her away through the garden. Come! come! Let us continue our search!"

"But Vaillant is not dead," said Alfred; "perhaps these wounds, which seem to have been made by a sword, are not fatal. Shall we leave without a.s.sistance the only one who dared to defend his mistress? Poor dog! How he gazes at us! Wait until I bind his wounds. Perhaps your handkerchief and mine will suffice to stop the flow of blood."

Despite his impatience to fly in search of Isaure, Edouard seconded his friend in attending to the needs of the girl's faithful defender.

Vaillant was transported gently to his mistress's bed, where he was wrapped in linen. Then the young men went to the garden; they found a small gate opening into the country still open. Blood stains indicated that the dog had followed his mistress thus far, and that Isaure had been taken away in that direction.

Edouard wished to scour the country, to follow the tracks of Isaure's abductors; he flattered himself that he could overtake them, and he asked Alfred for his weapons.

"What do you mean to do now, pray?" asked Alfred. "You have no idea in what direction they have gone! Which way do you propose to go this dark night? Is it not better to wait till daylight?"

"Wait! Why, perhaps even now she may be calling to me for help!

Everything seems to indicate that it is not long since this horrible crime was committed. I implore you, Alfred, give me your pistols! What have you to fear? I only wish to restore Isaure to your father. If he had been here, doubtless he would have defended her. Come! come! Let us search these mountains; perhaps there is still time to save her."

Alfred yielded to his friend's entreaties; he gave him one of his pistols, kept the other, and tried to keep up with Edouard, who started across the country at a rapid pace.

The weather was still unpleasant, and it was difficult to distinguish objects at a short distance. Edouard frequently stopped and listened to see whether he could not hear shrieks or footsteps. They had pa.s.sed the White House, and were going toward Chadrat, Alfred being some yards behind Edouard, when they heard footsteps in front of them. Edouard instantly rushed forward, and before Alfred had time to urge him to be prudent, he found himself face to face with a person whom he abruptly stopped:

"Where are you going? Where have you come from?"

The man whom Edouard had arrested took a step backward, and drawing his arm from beneath his cloak, held a pistol in the young man's face as he retorted in a firm voice:

"By what right do you question me?"

At the sound of that voice so familiar to his heart, Alfred darted in front of Edouard, exclaiming:

"Wretched man! What are you doing? It is my father!"

The Baron de Marcey, for it was he in very truth, uttered a cry of surprise as he recognized his son; while Edouard stood as if rooted to the ground.

"What! you, Alfred? you, in these mountains, at night, and with----"

"Oh! don't be alarmed, father," replied Alfred; "it is Edouard who is with me; and although he did bring you to a halt rather abruptly, you may be sure that we have not become highwaymen! On the contrary, we are on the track of the abductors of a young girl; and when he saw you, Edouard took you for one of the men we are looking for."

"You, in this country; you, here!" said the baron, unable to recover from his surprise; "and--this girl?"

"Is Isaure!" cried Edouard.

"Isaure! you know Isaure?" rejoined the baron, whose surprise and excitement increased momentarily. "What! then it was you, Edouard, whom she had so much to say to me about?"

"Yes, monsieur, it was I who loved her, who love her still, who wished to give her my hand, and never to part from her again, not knowing that another had a prior right over her, and that that other was Alfred's father! But at this moment, monsieur le baron, let us think only of finding her, of helping her. Her house is empty; Vaillant is pierced with wounds, and everything indicates that Isaure has been abducted from her home."

"Great heaven! the poor child! But she may be in the White House; she may have succeeded in escaping thither. Come, come! we still have that last hope; may it not soon be taken away from us!"

The baron strode rapidly forward; the two young men walked beside him; all three were silent; a single thought, a single desire inspired them at that moment. They soon reached the White House. The baron opened the door and went in first. With the aid of a match he soon struck a light, and all three examined the house and garden; but Isaure was not there.