The Works of Guy de Maupassant, Vol. 1: Boule de Suif and Other StoriesMaupassant, Guy de
General
The Works of Guy de Maupassant, Vol. 1: Boule de Suif and Other Stories
Maupassant, Guy de
French fiction -- Translations into English; Short stories, French -- Translations into English
_June 2._ My state has grown worse. What is the matter with me? The
bromide does me no good, and the shower baths have no effect whatever.
Sometimes, in order to tire myself out, though I am fatigued enough
already, I go for a walk in the forest of Roumare. I used to think at
first that the fresh light and soft air, impregnated with the odor of
herbs and leaves, would instill new blood into my veins and impart fresh
energy to my heart. I turned into a broad ride in the wood, and then I
turned towards La Bouille, through a narrow path, between two rows of
exceedingly tall trees, which placed a thick, green, almost black roof
between the sky and me.
A sudden shiver ran through me, not a cold shiver, but a shiver of
agony, and so I hastened my steps, uneasy at being alone in the wood,
frightened stupidly and without reason, at the profound solitude.
Suddenly it seemed to me as if I were being followed, that somebody was
walking at my heels, close, quite close to me, near enough to touch me.
I turned round suddenly, but I was alone. I saw nothing behind me except
the straight, broad ride, empty and bordered by high trees, horribly
empty; on the other side it also extended until it was lost in the
distance, and looked just the same, terrible.
I closed my eyes. Why? And then I began to turn round on one heel very
quickly, just like a top. I nearly fell down, and opened my eyes; the
trees were dancing round me and the earth heaved; I was obliged to sit
down. Then, ah! I no longer remembered how I had come! What a strange
idea! What a strange, strange idea! I did not the least know. I started
off to the right, and got back into the avenue which had led me into the
middle of the forest.
_June 3._ I have had a terrible night. I shall go away for a few weeks,
for no doubt a journey will set me up again.
_July 2._ I have come back, quite cured, and have had a most delightful
trip into the bargain. I have been to Mount Saint-Michel, which I had
not seen before.
What a sight, when one arrives as I did, at Avranches towards the end of
the day! The town stands on a hill, and I was taken into the public
garden at the extremity of the town. I uttered a cry of astonishment. An
extraordinarily large bay lay extended before me, as far as my eyes
could reach, between two hills which were lost to sight in the mist; and
in the middle of this immense yellow bay, under a clear, golden sky, a
peculiar hill rose up, somber and pointed in the midst of the sand. The
sun had just disappeared, and under the still flaming sky the outline
of that fantastic rock stood out, which bears on its summit a fantastic
monument.
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