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GRENOULLE
TRAVELED
by
night
.
As
he
had
done
at
the
beginning
of
his
journeys
,
he
steered
clear
of
cities
,
avoided
highways
,
lay
down
to
sleep
at
daybreak
,
arose
in
the
evening
,
and
walked
on
.
He
fed
on
whatever
he
found
on
the
way
:
grasses
,
mushrooms
,
flowers
,
dead
birds
,
worms
.
He
marched
through
the
Provence
;
south
of
Orange
he
crossed
the
Rhone
in
a
stolen
boat
,
followed
the
Ardeche
deep
into
the
Cevennes
and
then
the
Allier
northwards.In
the
Auvergne
he
drew
close
to
the
Plomb
du
Cantal
.
He
saw
it
lying
to
the
west
,
huge
and
silver
gray
in
the
moonlight
,
and
he
smelled
the
cool
wind
that
came
from
it
.
But
he
felt
no
urge
to
visit
it
.
He
no
longer
yearned
for
his
life
in
the
cave
.
He
had
experienced
that
life
once
and
it
had
proved
unlivable
.
Just
as
had
his
other
experience-life
among
human
beings
.
He
was
suffocated
by
both
worlds
.
He
no
longer
wanted
to
live
at
all
.
He
wanted
to
go
to
Paris
and
die
.
That
was
what
he
wanted.From
time
to
time
he
reached
in
his
pocket
and
closed
his
hand
around
the
little
glass
flacon
of
his
perfume
.
The
bottle
was
still
almost
full
.
He
had
used
only
a
drop
of
it
for
his
performance
in
Grasse
.
There
was
enough
left
to
enslave
the
whole
world
.
If
he
wanted
,
he
could
be
feted
in
Paris
,
not
by
tens
of
thousands
,
but
by
hundreds
of
thousands
of
people
;
or
could
walk
out
to
Versailles
and
have
the
king
kiss
his
feet
;
write
the
pope
a
perfumed
letter
and
reveal
himself
as
the
new
Messiah
;
be
anointed
in
Notre-Dame
as
Supreme
Emperor
before
kings
and
emperors
,
or
even
as
God
come
to
earth-if
there
was
such
a
thing
as
God
having
Himself
anointed
...
He
could
do
all
that
,
if
only
he
wanted
to
.
He
possessed
the
power
.
He
held
it
in
his
hand
.
A
power
stronger
than
the
power
of
money
or
the
power
of
terror
or
the
power
of
death
:
the
invincible
power
to
command
the
love
of
mankind
.
There
was
only
one
thing
that
power
could
not
do
:
it
could
not
make
him
able
to
smell
himself
.
And
though
his
perfume
might
allow
him
to
appear
before
the
world
as
a
god-if
he
could
not
smell
himself
and
thus
never
know
who
he
was
,
to
hell
with
it
,
with
the
world
,
with
himself
,
with
his
perfume.The
hand
that
had
grasped
the
flacon
was
fragrant
with
a
faint
scent
,
and
when
he
put
it
to
his
nose
and
sniffed
,
he
grew
wistful
and
forgot
to
walk
on
and
stood
there
smelling
.
No
one
knows
how
good
this
perfume
really
is
,
he
thought
.
No
one
knows
how
well
made
it
is
.
Other
people
are
merely
conquered
by
its
effect
,
do
n't
even
know
that
it
's
a
perfume
that
's
working
on
them
,
enslaving
them
.
The
only
one
who
has
ever
recognized
it
for
its
true
beauty
is
me
,
because
I
created
it
myself
.
And
at
the
same
time
,
I
'm
the
only
one
that
it
can
not
enslave
.
I
am
the
only
person
for
whom
it
is
meaningless.And
on
another
occasion-he
was
already
in
Burgundy
:
When
I
was
standing
there
at
the
wall
below
the
garden
where
the
redheaded
girl
was
playing
and
her
scent
came
floating
down
to
me
...
or
,
better
,
the
promise
of
her
scent
,
for
the
scent
she
would
carry
later
did
not
even
exist
yet-maybe
what
I
felt
that
day
is
like
what
the
people
on
the
parade
grounds
felt
when
I
flooded
them
with
my
perfume
...
?
But
then
he
cast
the
thought
aside
:
No
,
it
was
something
else
.
Because
I
knew
that
I
desired
the
scent
,
not
the
girl
.
But
those
people
believed
that
they
desired
me
,
and
what
they
really
desired
remained
a
mystery
to
them.Then
he
thought
no
more
,
for
thinking
was
not
his
strong
point
,
and
then
,
too
,
he
was
already
in
the
Orleanais.He
crossed
the
Loire
at
Sully
.
The
next
day
he
had
the
odor
of
Paris
in
his
nose
.
On
June
25
,
1766
,
at
six
in
the
morning
,
he
entered
the
city
via
the
rue
Saint-Jacques
.
It
turned
out
to
be
a
hot
day
,
the
hottest
of
the
year
thus
far
.
The
thousands
of
odors
and
stenches
oozed
out
as
if
from
thousands
of
festering
boils
.
Not
a
breeze
stirred
.
The
vegetables
in
the
market
stalls
shriveled
up
.
Meat
and
fish
rotted
.
Tainted
air
hung
in
the
narrow
streets
.
Even
the
river
seemed
to
have
stopped
flowing
,
to
have
stagnated
.
It
stank
.
It
was
a
day
like
the
one
on
which
Grenouille
was
born.He
walked
across
the
Pont-Neuf
to
the
right
bank
,
and
then
down
to
Les
Halles
and
the
Cimetiere
des
Innocents
.
He
sat
down
in
the
arcades
of
the
charnel
house
bordering
the
rue
aux
Fers
.
Before
him
lay
the
cemetery
grounds
like
a
cratered
battlefield
,
burrowed
and
ditched
and
trenched
with
graves
,
sown
with
skulls
and
bones
,
not
a
tree
,
bush
,
or
blade
of
grass
,
a
garbage
dump
of
death.Not
a
soul
was
to
be
seen
.
The
stench
of
corpses
was
so
heavy
that
even
the
gravediggers
had
retreated
.
Only
after
the
sun
had
gone
down
did
they
come
out
again
to
scoop
out
holes
for
the
dead
by
torchlight
until
late
into
the
night.But
then
after
midnight-the
gravediggers
had
left
by
then-the
place
came
alive
with
all
sorts
of
riffraff
:
thieves
,
murderers
,
cutthroats
,
whores
,
deserters
,
young
desperadoes
.
A
small
campfire
was
lit
for
cooking
and
in
the
hope
of
masking
the
stench.When
Grenouille
came
out
of
the
arcades
and
mixed
in
with
these
people
,
they
at
first
took
no
notice
of
him
.
He
was
able
to
walk
up
to
the
fire
unchallenged
,
as
if
he
were
one
of
them
.
That
later
helped
confirm
the
view
that
they
must
have
been
dealing
with
a
ghost
or
an
angel
or
some
other
supernatural
being
.
Because
normally
they
were
very
touchy
about
the
approach
of
any
stranger.The
little
man
in
the
blue
frock
coat
,
however
,
had
suddenly
simply
been
there
,
as
if
he
had
sprouted
out
of
the
ground
,
and
he
had
had
a
little
bottle
in
his
hand
that
he
unstoppered
.
That
was
the
first
thing
that
any
of
them
could
recall
:
that
he
had
stood
there
and
unstoppered
a
bottle
.
And
then
he
had
sprinkled
himself
all
over
with
the
contents
of
the
bottle
and
all
at
once
he
had
been
bathed
in
beauty
like
blazing
fire.For
a
moment
they
fell
back
in
awe
and
pure
amazement
.
But
in
the
same
instant
they
sensed
their
falling
back
was
more
like
preparing
for
a
running
start
,
that
their
awe
was
turning
to
desire
,
their
amazement
to
rapture
.
They
felt
themselves
drawn
to
this
angel
of
a
man
.
A
frenzied
,
alluring
force
came
from
him
,
a
riptide
no
human
could
have
resisted
,
all
the
less
because
no
human
would
have
wanted
to
resist
it
,
for
what
that
tide
was
pulling
under
and
dragging
away
was
the
human
will
itself
:
straight
to
him.They
had
formed
a
circle
around
him
,
twenty
,
thirty
people
,
and
their
circle
grew
smaller
and
smaller
.
Soon
the
circle
could
not
contain
them
all
,
they
began
to
push
,
to
shove
,
and
to
elbow
,
each
of
them
trying
to
be
closest
to
the
center
.
And
then
all
at
once
the
last
inhibition
collapsed
within
them
,
and
the
circle
collapsed
with
it
.
They
lunged
at
the
angel
,
pounced
on
him
,
threw
him
to
the
ground
.
Each
of
them
wanted
to
touch
him
,
wanted
to
have
a
piece
of
him
,
a
feather
,
a
bit
of
plumage
,
a
spark
from
that
wonderful
fire
.
They
tore
away
his
clothes
,
his
hair
,
his
skin
from
his
body
,
they
plucked
him
,
they
drove
their
claws
and
teeth
into
his
flesh
,
they
attacked
him
like
hyenas.But
the
human
body
is
tough
and
not
easily
dismembered
,
even
horses
have
great
difficulty
accomplishing
it
.
And
so
the
flash
of
knives
soon
followed
,
thrusting
and
slicing
,
and
then
the
swish
of
axes
and
cleavers
aimed
at
the
joints
,
hacking
and
crushing
the
bones
.
In
very
short
order
,
the
angel
was
divided
into
thirty
pieces
,
and
every
animal
in
the
pack
snatched
a
piece
for
itself
,
and
then
,
driven
by
voluptuous
lust
,
dropped
back
to
devour
it
.
A
half
hour
later
,
Jean-Baptiste
Grenouille
had
disappeared
utterly
from
the
earth.When
the
cannibals
found
their
way
back
together
after
disposing
of
their
meal
,
no
one
said
a
word
.
Someone
would
belch
a
bit
,
or
spit
out
a
fragment
of
bone
,
or
softly
smack
with
his
tongue
,
or
kick
a
leftover
shred
of
blue
frock
coat
into
the
flames
.
They
were
all
a
little
embarrassed
and
afraid
to
look
at
one
another
.
They
had
all
,
whether
man
or
woman
,
committed
a
murder
or
some
other
despicable
crime
at
one
time
or
another
.
But
to
eat
a
human
being
?
They
would
never
,
so
they
thought
,
have
been
capable
of
anything
that
horrible
And
they
were
amazed
that
it
had
been
so
very
easy
for
them
and
that
,
embarrassed
as
they
were
,
they
did
not
feel
the
tiniest
bite
of
conscience
.
On
the
contrary
!
Though
the
meal
lay
rather
heavy
on
their
stomachs
,
their
hearts
were
definitely
light
.
All
of
a
sudden
there
were
delightful
,
bright
flutterings
in
their
dark
souls
.
And
on
their
faces
was
a
delicate
,
virginal
glow
of
happiness
.
Perhaps
that
was
why
they
were
shy
about
looking
up
and
gazing
into
one
another
's
eyes.When
they
finally
did
dare
it
,
at
first
with
stolen
glances
and
then
candid
ones
,
they
had
to
smile
.
They
were
uncommonly
proud
.
For
the
first
time
they
had
done
something
out
of
love
.