‘More time!’ expostulated Emile. ‘She’s had plenty of time if she wasn’t sure – several weeks. How can she simply disappear, leaving no message?’

A new thought struck Rosalie and she said, ‘Perhaps she’s gone to the Avenue Ste Anne. She might have, Emile, just to get away for a while.’

‘And expect us to come running after her?’

‘Well, we can find out, you know. We can telegraph Georges and ask him to go and see. At least we can tell Simon that’s what we’ve done. We can make it clear that we’re doing all we can to find her.’

‘Better get Pierre to send the telegram, then,’ grumbled Emile. ‘But before he does that he must take a letter to Gavrineau to tell Barnier what’s happened. I’ll write it now. Please tell him to come to me at once to collect it. We can hardly leave the poor man and his family standing outside the Mairie, can we?’

Rosalie reluctantly agreed they could not, and though the engagement ring suggested otherwise, she was still hoping against hope that Hélène had simply gone out somewhere and would soon be back. ‘And in the meantime,’ she said, ‘I’ll have a word with Madame Sauze. I’ll see her in my parlour.’

She was anxious to speak to Agathe Sauze without Emile’s presence. It was quite possible that she might know where Annette and Hélène had gone. After all, she was the one who had come to her about Annette’s plight in the first place. Everyone at Belair, Emile included, believed that Agathe and Annette were aunt and niece. Though Rosalie knew they were not, she had seen there was definite affection between them.

Her interview with Agathe was, however, postponed when Louise came downstairs to find out what all the fuss was about.

‘Lizette says Hélène’s run away,’ she announced. ‘Has she, Maman? Has she run away? Where’s she gone?’

‘You shouldn’t listen to the servants’ gossip,’ said her mother repressively. ‘We don’t know quite where she is.’

‘So she has run away,’ said Louise. ‘But why?’

‘Louise, all these questions are not helpful. I suggest if you have nothing better to do that you go back to your own room for the time being.’

‘All right,’ Louise said, ‘if you want me to, but I thought you might like to hear what I saw in the middle of the night.’

‘For goodness’ sake, child,’ exclaimed her mother. ‘What did you see?’

‘Well, I don’t suppose it was the middle of the night,’ answered Louise, ‘not really, but it was still almost dark. I got up and was looking out of the window and I saw them. Well, I saw somebody, in the stable yard, but when I looked again there was no one there.’

‘So you didn’t really see anything.’

‘I did,’ asserted Louise, ‘and it must have been Hélène and Annette leaving. But when the moon came out they’d gone. They must have gone out into the field.’

‘Into the field,’ echoed Rosalie, and then she realised what that must mean. ‘Louise, please wait upstairs, chérie. I have to go and speak to your father.’