Stories of Modern French Novels
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第3章

A week later Gilbert was on his way to Geierfels.At Cologne he embarked on board a steamboat to go up the Rhine ten or twelve leagues beyond Bonn.Towards evening, a thick fog settled down upon the river and its banks, and it became necessary to anchor during the night.This mischance rendered Gilbert melancholy, finding in it, as he did, an image of his life.He too had a current to stem, and more than once a sad and somber fog had fallen and obscured his course.

In the morning the weather cleared; they weighed anchor, and at two o'clock in the afternoon, Gilbert disembarked at a station two leagues from Geierfels.He was in no haste to arrive, and even though "born with a ready-made consolation for anything," as M.

Lerins sometimes reproachfully said to him, he dreaded the moment when his prison doors should close behind him, and he was disposed to enjoy yet a few hours of his dear liberty."We are about to part," said he to himself; "let us at least take time to say farewell."Instead of hiring a carriage to transport himself and his effects, he consigned his trunk to a porter, who engaged to forward it to him the next day, and took his way on foot, carrying under his arm a little valise, and promising himself not to hurry.An hour later he quitted the main road, and stopped to refresh himself at an humble inn situated upon a hillock covered with pine trees.Dinner was served to him under an arbor,--his repast consisted of a slice of smoked ham and an omelette au cerfeuil, which he washed down with a little good claret.This feast a la Jean Jacques appeared to him delicious, flavored as it was by that "freedom of the inn"which was dearer to the author of the Confessions than even the freedom of the press.

When he had finished eating, Gilbert ordered a cup of coffee, or rather of that black beverage called coffee in Germany.He was hardly able to drink it, and he remembered with longing the delicious Mocha prepared by the hands of Madame Lerins; and this set him thinking of that amiable woman and her husband.

Gilbert's reverie soon took another turn.From the bank where he was sitting, he saw the Rhine, the tow path which wound along by the side of its grayish waters, and nearer to him the great white road where, at intervals, heavy wagons and post chaises raised clouds of dust.This dusty road soon absorbed all of his attention.It seemed to him as if it cast tender glances upon him, as if it called him and said: "Follow me; we will go together to distant countries; we will keep the same step night and day and never weary; we will traverse rivers and mountains, and every morning we will have a new horizon.Come, I wait for thee, give me thy heart.I am the faithful friend of vagabonds, I am the divine mistress of those bold and strong hearts which look upon life as an adventure."Gilbert was not the man to dream long.He became himself again, rose to his feet, and shook off the vision."Up to this hour Ithought myself rational; but it appears I am so no longer.

Forward, then,--courage, let us take our staff and on to Geierfels!"As he entered the kitchen of the inn to pay his bill, he found the landlord there busy in bathing a child's face from which the blood streamed profusely.During this operation, the child cried, and the landlord swore.At this moment his wife came in.

"What has happened to Wilhelm?" she asked.

"What has happened?" replied he angrily."It happened that when Monsieur Stephane was riding on horseback on the road by the mill, this child walked before him with his pigs.Monsieur Stephane's horse snorted, and Monsieur Stephane, who could hardly hold him, said to the child: 'Now then, little idiot, do you think my horse was made to swallow the dust your pigs raise? Draw aside, drive them into the brush, and give me the road.' 'Take to the woods yourself,' answered the child, 'the path is only a few steps off.'

At this Monsieur Stephane got angry, and as the child began to laugh, he rushed upon him and cut him in the face with his whip.

God-a-mercy! let him come back,--this little master,--and I'll teach him how to behave himself.I mean to tie him to a tree, one of these days, and break a dozen fagots of green sticks over his back.""Ah take care what thou sayest, my old Peter," replied his wife with a frightened air."If thou'dst touch the little man thou'dst get thyself into a bad business.""Who is this Monsieur Stephane?" inquired Gilbert.

The landlord, recalled to prudence by the warning of his wife, answered dryly: "Stephane is Stephane, pryers are pryers, and sheep are put into the world to be sheared."Thus repulsed, poor Gilbert paid five or six times its value for his frugal repast, muttering as he departed: "I don't like this Stephane; is it on his account that I've just been imposed upon?

Is it my fault that he carries matters with such a high hand?"Gilbert descended the little hill, and retook the main road; it pleased him no more, for he knew too well where it was leading him.

He inquired how much further it was to Geierfels, and was told that by fast walking he would reach that place within an hour, whereupon he slackened his pace.He was certainly in no haste to get there.

Gilbert was but a half a league from the castle when, upon his right, a little out of his road, he perceived a pretty fountain which partly veiled a natural grotto.A path led to it, and this path had for Gilbert an irresistible attraction.He seated himself upon the margin of the fountain, resting his feet upon a mossy stone.This ought to be his last halt, for night was approaching.