David here. Let's escape to the forest as quickly as we can. On the first night of Pierre de la Motte's flight from Paris, his carriage loses its way in a wild heath. It is dark and stormy. At last perceiving a light in the distance, La Motte makes for it on foot, leaving his wife and two faithful domestics with the carriage.

"The light issued from the window of a small and ancient house, which stood alone on the heath." La Motte's knock is answered by a tall figure who admits him to the house only to shove him into an empty room and lock the door. Unsure whether he has fallen into the hands of bandits or his own pursuing creditors, La Motte freaks out in the desolate chamber for a quarter of an hour. The door is then opened to reveal again the tall figure, who enters "leading, or rather forcibly dragging" the lovely Adeline. "Her features were bathed in tears, and she seemed to suffer the utmost distress. The man fastened the lock and put the key in his pocket. He then advanced to La Motte, who had observed other persons in the passage, and pointing a pistol at his breast, 'You are wholly in my power, said he, 'no other assistance can reach you: if you wish to save your life, swear that you will convey this girl etc." My italics are meant to highlight a heartbreaking detail that's easy to miss in all the commotion, since it's nowhere stated that the tall figure who thrusts Adeline upon a total stranger is in fact the person of her own father. But the presence of other persons outside the chamber (viz. the two gloomy manservants of Louis de St. Pierre) confirms that it is none other.

The eyes of La Motte and Adeline are bound, and they are led some distance on horseback to his carriage, which the manservants have driven beyond the borders of the heath. Once freed, La Motte's re-united party hurries all day and into the following night to arrive at a small village where Adeline falls sick from exhaustion, and they are kept for a number of days. At this, La Motte's "distress may be more easily imagined than described... [T]o be exposed to destruction by the illness of a girl, whom he did not know, and who had actually been forced on him, was a misfortune to which La Motte had not philosophy enough to submit with composure." On her recovery, La Motte resolves to depart from the Paris highway and make for Lyon or Geneva along a track through the vast forest of Fontanville. The forest is beautiful by day, reviving Adeline's spirits with its vernal exhalations. But as night falls? Well what do you expect?
At least we made it into the forest.