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It
was
necessary
to
appear
at
breakfast
.
To
complete
her
anguish
,
M
.
de
Rênal
and
Madame
Derville
talked
of
nothing
but
Julien
’
s
departure
.
The
mayor
of
Verrières
had
noticed
something
unusual
in
the
firm
tone
in
which
he
had
asked
for
a
holiday
.
"
That
little
peasant
has
no
doubt
got
somebody
else
’
s
offer
up
his
sleeve
,
but
that
somebody
else
,
even
though
it
’
s
M
.
Valenod
,
is
bound
to
be
a
little
discouraged
by
the
sum
of
six
hundred
francs
,
which
the
annual
salary
now
tots
up
to
.
He
must
have
asked
yesterday
at
Verrières
for
a
period
of
three
days
to
think
it
over
,
and
our
little
gentleman
runs
off
to
the
mountains
this
morning
so
as
not
to
be
obliged
to
give
me
an
answer
.
Think
of
having
to
reckon
with
a
wretched
workman
who
puts
on
airs
,
but
that
’
s
what
we
’
ve
come
to
.
"
"
If
my
husband
,
who
does
not
know
how
deeply
he
has
wounded
Julien
,
thinks
that
he
will
leave
us
,
what
can
I
think
myself
?
"
said
Madame
de
Rênal
to
herself
.
"
Yes
,
that
is
all
decided
.
"
In
order
to
be
able
at
any
rate
to
be
free
to
cry
,
and
to
avoid
answering
Madame
Derville
’
s
questions
,
she
pleaded
an
awful
headache
,
and
went
to
bed
.
"
That
’
s
what
women
are
,
"
repeated
M
.
de
Rênal
,
"
there
is
always
something
out
of
order
in
those
complicated
machines
,
"
and
he
went
off
jeering
.
While
Madame
de
Rênal
was
a
prey
to
all
the
poignancy
of
the
terrible
passion
in
which
chance
had
involved
her
,
Julien
went
merrily
on
his
way
,
surrounded
by
the
most
beautiful
views
that
mountain
scenery
can
offer
.
He
had
to
cross
the
great
chain
north
of
Vergy
.
The
path
which
he
followed
rose
gradually
among
the
big
beech
woods
,
and
ran
into
infinite
spirals
on
the
slope
of
the
high
mountain
which
forms
the
northern
boundary
of
the
Doubs
valley
.
Soon
the
traveller
’
s
view
,
as
he
passed
over
the
lower
slopes
bounding
the
course
of
the
Doubs
towards
the
south
,
extends
as
far
as
the
fertile
plains
of
Burgundy
and
Beaujolais
.
However
insensible
was
the
soul
of
this
ambitious
youth
to
this
kind
of
beauty
,
he
could
not
help
stopping
from
time
to
time
to
look
at
a
spectacle
at
once
so
vast
and
so
impressive
.
Finally
,
he
reached
the
summit
of
the
great
mountain
,
near
which
he
had
to
pass
in
order
to
arrive
by
this
cross
-
country
route
at
the
solitary
valley
where
lived
his
friend
Fouqué
,
the
young
wood
merchant
.
Julien
was
in
no
hurry
to
see
him
;
either
him
,
or
any
other
human
being
.
Hidden
like
a
bird
of
prey
amid
the
bare
rocks
which
crowned
the
great
mountain
,
he
could
see
a
long
way
off
anyone
coming
near
him
.
He
discovered
a
little
grotto
in
the
middle
of
the
almost
vertical
slope
of
one
of
the
rocks
.
He
found
a
way
to
it
,
and
was
soon
ensconced
in
this
retreat
.
"
Here
,
"
he
said
,
"
with
eyes
brilliant
with
joy
,
men
cannot
hurt
me
.
"
It
occurred
to
him
to
indulge
in
the
pleasure
of
writing
down
those
thoughts
of
his
which
were
so
dangerous
to
him
everywhere
else
.
A
square
stone
served
him
for
a
desk
;
his
pen
flew
.
He
saw
nothing
of
what
was
around
him
.
He
noticed
at
last
that
the
sun
was
setting
behind
the
distant
mountains
of
Beaujolais
.
"
Why
shouldn
’
t
I
pass
the
night
here
?
"
he
said
to
himself
.
"
I
have
bread
,
and
I
am
free
.
"
He
felt
a
spiritual
exultation
at
the
sound
of
that
great
word
.
The
necessity
of
playing
the
hypocrite
resulted
in
his
not
being
free
,
even
at
Fouqué
’
s
.
Leaning
his
head
on
his
two
hands
,
Julien
stayed
in
the
grotto
,
more
happy
than
he
had
ever
been
in
his
life
,
thrilled
by
his
dreams
,
and
by
the
bliss
of
his
freedom
.
Without
realising
it
,
he
saw
all
the
rays
of
the
twilight
become
successively
extinguished
.
Surrounded
by
this
immense
obscurity
,
his
soul
wandered
into
the
contemplation
of
what
he
imagined
that
he
would
one
day
meet
in
Paris
.
First
it
was
a
woman
,
much
more
beautiful
and
possessed
of
a
much
more
refined
temperament
than
anything
he
could
have
found
in
the
provinces
.
He
loved
with
passion
,
and
was
loved
.
If
he
separated
from
her
for
some
instants
,
it
was
only
to
cover
himself
with
glory
,
and
to
deserve
to
be
loved
still
more
.
A
young
man
brought
up
in
the
environment
of
the
sad
truths
of
Paris
society
,
would
,
on
reaching
this
point
in
his
romance
,
even
if
we
assume
him
possessed
of
Julien
’
s
imagination
,
have
been
brought
back
to
himself
by
the
cold
irony
of
the
situation
.
Great
deeds
would
have
disappeared
from
out
his
ken
together
with
hope
of
achieving
them
and
have
been
succeeded
by
the
platitude
.
"
If
one
leave
one
’
s
mistress
one
runs
alas
!
the
risk
of
being
deceived
two
or
three
times
a
day
.
"
But
the
young
peasant
saw
nothing
but
the
lack
of
opportunity
between
himself
and
the
most
heroic
feats
.
