At the same time, Madame Theodore doubtless feared a visit from the police.

Had she seen Salvat since the crime?
Did she know where he was hiding?
Had he come back there to embrace and tranquillise them both?
"And your papa, my dear," said Pierre to Celine, "isn't he here either ?" "Oh! no, monsieur, he has gone away." "What, gone away ?" "Yes, he hasn't been home to sleep, and we don't know where he is." "Perhaps he's working." "Oh, no! he'd send us some money if he was." "Then he's gone on a journey, perhaps ?" "I don't know." "He wrote to Mamma Theodore, no doubt ?" "I don't know." Pierre asked no further questions.

In fact, he felt somewhat ashamed of his attempt to extract information from this child of eleven, whom he thus found alone.

It was quite possible that she knew nothing, that Salvat, in a spirit of prudence, had even refrained from sending any tidings of himself.

Indeed, there was an expression of truthfulness on the child's fair, gentle and intelligent face, which was grave with the gravity that extreme misery imparts to the young.
"I am sorry that Mamma Theodore isn't here," said Pierre, "I wanted to speak to her." "But perhaps you would like to wait for her, Monsieur l'Abbe.