Mademoiselle came down from her chamber, her sweet face
betokening a brave attempt to bear up under the many woes that crushed
her,--the condition of her father, her own exile, the peril in which she
stood of the governor's reconsidering his order and sending to make her
prisoner, the seeming necessity of exchanging my guidance for that of a
stranger who had been painted to her in repulsive colors, and the other
unhappy elements of her situation.
"It is strange that the boy, Pierre, has not returned," I said, while we
sat at table.
Mademoiselle reddened. It then occurred to me that, in her abstraction,
she had not even noticed his absence, and that now it came on her as a
new trouble.
"Pardon me for speaking of it in such a way as to frighten you," I said.
"There is no cause for alarm. Not finding me on the road, he may have
turned into the woods to look for me, and so have lost his way. He would
surely be able to find the road again."
"I trust he will not come to any harm," replied mademoiselle, in a low
voice that seemed forced, as if she were concealing the fears that she
really felt.
Jeannotte cast a sympathetic look at her mistress.
"Shall I go and look for him?" asked Hugo, showing in his face his
anxiety for his comrade.
"You would lose yourself, also," I said. "Mademoiselle, I shall go, for I
know all the hillocks and points of vantage from which he may be seen.
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