CHAPTER IV
To the west of Castel-le-Gachis four rows of venerable lime-trees
formed, in this starry night, a twilit avenue with two side aisles
of pitch darkness. Here and there stone benches were disposed
between the trunks. There was not a breath of wind; a heavy
atmosphere of perfume hung about the alleys; and every leaf stood
stock-still upon its twig. Hither, after vainly knocking at an inn
or two, the Berthelinis came at length to pass the night. After an
amiable contention, Leon insisted on giving his coat to Elvira, and
they sat down together on the first bench in silence. Leon made a
cigarette, which he smoked to an end, looking up into the trees,
and, beyond them, at the constellations, of which he tried vainly
to recall the names. The silence was broken by the church bell; it
rang the four quarters on a light and tinkling measure; then
followed a single deep stroke that died slowly away with a thrill;
and stillness resumed its empire.
"One," said Leon. "Four hours till daylight. It is warm; it is
starry; I have matches and tobacco. Do not let us exaggerate,
Elvira - the experience is positively charming. I feel a glow
within me; I am born again. This is the poetry of life. Think of
Cooper's novels, my dear."
"Leon," she said fiercely, "how can you talk such wicked, infamous
nonsense? To pass all night out-of-doors - it is like a nightmare!
We shall die.
Pages:
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382
383
384
385
386