Virginie, the fruiterer, on learning that her son had returned, went home
at once, and found the house empty. She waited, without thinking anything
about it at first; but at the end of a quarter of an hour she made
inquiries. The neighbors had seen Isidore come home and had not seen him
go out again. They began to look for him, but could not find him. His
mother, in alarm, went to the mayor. The mayor knew nothing, except that
he had left him at the door of his home. Mme. Husson had just retired
when they informed her that her protege had disappeared. She immediately
put on her wig, dressed herself and went to Virginie's house. Virginie,
whose plebeian soul was readily moved, was weeping copiously amid her
cabbages, carrots and onions.

They feared some accident had befallen him. What could it be? Commandant
Desbarres notified the police, who made a circuit of the town, and on the
high road to Pontoise they found the little bunch of orange blossoms. It
was placed on a table around which the authorities were deliberating. The
"Rosier" must have been the victim of some stratagem, some trick, some
jealousy; but in what way? What means had been employed to kidnap this
innocent creature, and with what object?

Weary of looking for him without any result, Virginie, alone, remained
watching and weeping.

The following evening, when the coach passed by on its return from Paris,
Gisors learned with astonishment that its "Rosier" had stopped the
vehicle at a distance of about two hundred metres from the town, had
climbed up on it and paid his fare, handing over a gold piece and
receiving the change, and that he had quietly alighted in the centre of
the great city.