按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
them they heard the river flowing； and now and again on the bank
the rustling of the dry reeds。 Masses of shadow here and there
loomed out in the darkness； and sometimes； vibrating with one
movement； they rose up and swayed like immense black waves
pressing forward to engulf them。 The cold of the nights made them
clasp closer； the sighs of their lips seemed to them deeper；
their eyes that they could hardly see； larger； and in the midst
of the silence low words were spoken that fell on their souls
sonorous； crystalline； and that reverberated in multiplied
vibrations。
When the night was rainy； they took refuge in the consulting…room
between the cart…shed and the stable。 She lighted one of the
kitchen candles that she had hidden behind the books。 Rodolphe
settled down there as if at home。 The sight of the library； of
the bureau； of the whole apartment； in fine； excited his
merriment； and he could not refrain from making jokes about
Charles； which rather embarrassed Emma。 She would have liked to
see him more serious； and even on occasions more dramatic； as；
for example； when she thought she heard a noise of approaching
steps in the alley。
〃Someone is coming！〃 she said。
He blew out the light。
〃Have you your pistols？〃
〃Why？〃
〃Why； to defend yourself；〃 replied Emma。
〃From your husband？ Oh； poor devil！〃 And Rodolphe finished his
sentence with a gesture that said； 〃I could crush him with a
flip of my finger。〃
She was wonder…stricken at his bravery； although she felt in it a
sort of indecency and a naive coarseness that scandalised her。
Rodolphe reflected a good deal on the affair of the pistols。 If
she had spoken seriously； it was very ridiculous； he thought；
even odious； for he had no reason to hate the good Charles； not
being what is called devoured by jealousy； and on this subject
Emma had taken a great vow that he did not think in the best of
taste。
Besides； she was growing very sentimental。 She had insisted on
exchanging miniatures； they had cut off handfuls of hair； and now
she was asking for a ringa real wedding…ring； in sign of an
eternal union。 She often spoke to him of the evening chimes； of
the voices of nature。 Then she talked to him of her motherhers！
and of his motherhis！ Rodolphe had lost his twenty years ago。
Emma none the less consoled him with caressing words as one would
have done a lost child； and she sometimes even said to him；
gazing at the moon
〃I am sure that above there together they approve of our love。〃
But she was so pretty。 He had possessed so few women of such
ingenuousness。 This love without debauchery was a new experience
for him； and； drawing him out of his lazy habits； caressed at
once his pride and his sensuality。 Emma's enthusiasm； which his
bourgeois good sense disdained； seemed to him in his heart of
hearts charming； since it was lavished on him。 Then； sure of
being loved； he no longer kept up appearances； and insensibly his
ways changed。
He had no longer； as formerly； words so gentle that they made her
cry； nor passionate caresses that made her mad； so that their
great love； which engrossed her life； seemed to lessen beneath
her like the water of a stream absorbed into its channel； and she
could see the bed of it。 She would not believe it； she redoubled
in tenderness； and Rodolphe concealed his indifference less and
less。
She did not know if she regretted having yielded to him； or
whether she did not wish； on the contrary； to enjoy him the more。
The humiliation of feeling herself weak was turning to rancour；
tempered by their voluptuous pleasures。 It was not affection； it
was like a continual seduction。 He subjugated her； she almost
feared him。
Appearances； nevertheless； were calmer than ever； Rodolphe having
succeeded in carrying out the adultery after his own fancy； and
at the end of six months； when the spring…time came； they were to
one another like a married couple； tranquilly keeping up a
domestic flame。
It was the time of year when old Rouault sent his turkey in
remembrance of the setting of his leg。 The present always arrived
with a letter。 Emma cut the string that tied it to the basket；
and read the following lines：
〃My Dear ChildrenI hope this will find you well； and that this
one will be as good as the others。 For it seems to me a little
more tender； if I may venture to say so； and heavier。 But next
time； for a change； I'll give you a turkeycock； unless you have a
preference for some dabs； and send me back the hamper； if you
please； with the two old ones。 I have had an accident with my
cart…sheds； whose covering flew off one windy night among the
trees。 The harvest has not been overgood either。 Finally； I don't
know when I shall come to see you。 It is so difficult now to
leave the house since I am alone； my poor Emma。〃
Here there was a break in the lines； as if the old fellow had
dropped his pen to dream a little while。
〃For myself； I am very well； except for a cold I caught the other
day at the fair at Yvetot； where I had gone to hire a shepherd；
having turned away mine because he was too dainty。 How we are to
be pitied with such a lot of thieves！ Besides； he was also rude。
I heard from a pedlar； who； travelling through your part of the
country this winter； had a tooth drawn； that Bovary was as usual
working hard。 That doesn't surprise me； and he showed me his
tooth； we had some coffee together。 I asked him if he had seen
you； and he said not； but that he had seen two horses in the
stables； from which I conclude that business is looking up。 So
much the better； my dear children； and may God send you every
imaginable happiness！ It grieves me not yet to have seen my dear
little grand…daughter； Berthe Bovary。 I have planted an Orleans
plum…tree for her in the garden under your room； and I won't have
it touched unless it is to have jam made for her by and bye； that
I will keep in the cupboard for her when she comes。
〃Good…bye； my dear children。 I kiss you； my girl； you too； my
son…in…law； and the little one on both cheeks。 I am； with best
compliments； your loving father。
〃Theodore Rouault。〃
She held the coarse paper in her fingers for some minutes。 The
spelling mistakes were interwoven one with the other； and Emma
followed the kindly thought that cackled right through it like a
hen half hidden in the hedge of thorns。 The writing had been
dried with ashes from the hearth； for a little grey powder
slipped from the letter on to her dress； and she almost thought
she saw her father bending over the hearth to take up the tongs。
How long since she had been with him； sitting on the footstool in
the chimney…corner； where she used to burn the end of a bit of
wood in the great flame of the sea…sedges！ She remembered the
summer evenings all full of sunshine。 The colts neighed when
anyone passed by； and galloped； galloped。 Under her window there
was a beehive； and sometimes the bees wheeling round in the light
struck against her window like rebounding balls of gold。 What
happiness there had been at that time； what freedom； what hope！
What an abundance of illusions！ Nothing was left of them now。 She
had got rid of them all in her soul's life； in all her successive
conditions of lifemai