French fiction -- Translations into English; Paris (France) -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
However, love and despair do not render one indefatigable. Urbain had
been walking since eight o'clock in the evening, and it was now nearly
three o'clock in the morning. His legs began to fail him, he felt that
it would soon be impossible for him to go any further. He looked around
him. The moon, which showed at intervals, allowed him to distinguish the
junction of some lonely cross roads into which converged some lanes
which led to the marshes. Urbain turned towards a large stone which he
perceived some steps from him, for he thought he would there seat
himself and wait for day, but as he reached the stone his feet struck
against something which he had not perceived, and a voice immediately
exclaimed,--
"Oh, by jingo! don't kill me; I haven't a sou now."
CHAPTER VIII
THE CHATEAU DE SARCUS
The carriage which contained the unfortunate Blanche bowled steadily
along for several hours, and in the excitement occasioned by this novel
journey, the lovely child hardly remembered her former fears. After
living in the most absolute retirement, shut up for years in a single
room except at meal times, it seemed like a dream to find herself in a
carriage in the middle of the night, and alone journeying into the wide
world, she knew not whither. However, the noise of the wheels and of the
horses' feet, mingled with the cracking of the postilion's whip, as he
sought to increase the speed of his horses, which were already going
like the wind, and the rocking of the vehicle as it swayed from side to
side alarmed her very much and persuaded her of the reality of her
situation.
"I am going to see Urbain," said the trembling traveller to herself, "I
am going to rejoin him; I should not give way to my fears, we are going
to be so happy. Why, since we are about to be united forever, should I
feel anything but pleasure at hastening the moment? But then, I had
hoped to travel with Urbain and everything has turned out so
differently. Poor Urbain, it's not his fault; but why did he fight? Oh,
I am so anxious to be with him!--and Marguerite didn't even say good-by
to me. It seems as though everybody had abandoned me."
The sweet girl dried the tears which had moistened her eyes, then she
looked out of the windows, but the darkness prevented her from seeing
anything; she sighed and sank back in the carriage.
"Where are we? I don't know, but it seems to me they are going very
fast. Well, so much the better, I shall be the sooner with Urbain."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account