The wish to see Isaure again had made both of the young men early risers; Robineau was still sleeping soundly when Edouard left his room and stole softly down the stairs leading to the courtyard. He made as little noise as possible, for he was afraid of waking Alfred; indeed, he was afraid of meeting him; he did not suspect that this time the young baron had stolen a march on him, and that he had left the château half an hour before.
On reaching the courtyard Edouard was stopped by François, who dared not wake his master and did not know what answer to make to the workmen who applied to him for orders concerning different repairs. Edouard spent a moment examining the work, gave some instructions, and succeeded at last in ridding himself of them all. But François had no sooner left him than the gardener came toward him, and begged him to take a look at the improvements which he had planned in the garden. There was no way to get rid of Monsieur Vincent without doing what he wished. Edouard went into the garden, declared everything charming, admirable, delightful; and while the gardener was still talking, left him there and hurried back from the garden to the courtyard. There the concierge was awaiting him; Monsieur Cunette was not tipsy, but he had already breakfasted, and he was in a loquacious mood; he absolutely insisted upon showing Edouard the cellars of the château; he had the keys in his hand and had already lighted the lantern.
"I don't want to see your cellars," said Edouard, pushing him aside, "show them to your master all you please, but I care nothing about making their acquaintance."
"Then monsieur must have changed his mind," said the concierge, putting the keys into his pocket.
"Why, this morning your friend, Monsieur de Marcey, told us that you were determined to see the cellars, the gardens, and the works that were going on. He told us that we must show you everything."
"What! you have seen Alfred already? Where is he, pray?"
"Oh! he must be a long way off by this time if he is still going. To be sure, he took the big horse that was in the carriage yesterday, you know. Bless my soul! how he made him go!"
Edouard saw that it was Alfred who had set everybody upon him, to detain him in the château; he divined his motive, and his heart beat faster. Alfred had determined to arrange for himself a tête-à-tête with Isaure, and he had feared that Edouard might find him there. What could he have to say in secret to that girl? Edouard guessed only too well, and he would have gladly given all that he possessed to be at the White House at that moment.