THE COMPLETE WORKS OF ÉMILE ZOLA. Эмиль Золя

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      CHAPTER I

      HOW BLANCHE DE CAZALIS ELOPED WITH PHILIPPE CAYOL

      TOWARDS the end of the month of May, 184 — , a man about thirty years of age was walking rapidly along a footpath in the Saint Joseph quarter, near the Aygalades. He had left his horse in the care of a small cultivator occupying a neighbouring farm, and was going in the direction of a large, solidly-built square house, a kind of country château, such as are to be found on the hills of Provence.

      The man turned aside to avoid the château and went and seated himself in a pine wood, which spread out behind the building. Then, anxious and feverish, he pushed aside the branches and glanced along the pathways apparently awaiting someone with impatience. Now and again he rose and took a few steps, then reseated himself all in a tremble.

      This man, who was tall and of strange appearance, wore bushy black whiskers. His long face, marked by energetic lineaments, displayed a kind of violent and passionate beauty. Suddenly his eyes softened and a tender smile spread over his thick lips. A young girl had just issued from the château, and, stooping as though to hide herself, was hastening towards the pine wood.

      Rosy and breathless, she reached the shelter of the trees. She was barely sixteen years old. Beneath the blue ribbons of her straw hat, her young face was smiling with a joyous and at the same time a startled expression.

      Her fair hair fell over her shoulders; her little hands, pressed to her breast, were endeavouring to calm her throbbing heart.

      “How late you are, Blanche!” said the young man. “I had almost giving up hoping to see you.”

      And he seated her on the moss beside him.

      “Forgive me, Philippe,” answered the young girl. “My uncle has gone to Aix to purchase an estate; but I could not get rid of my governess.”

      She yielded herself to the embrace of him she adored, and the two lovers enjoyed one of those long talks which are at once so silly and so sweet. Blanche was like a big child playing with her lover as she would have done with a doll. Philippe, now ardent and speechless, was pressing the young girl to him and gazing upon her with all the transports of love and ambition.

      And whilst they were seated there, oblivious of the world, they noticed, on raising their heads, some peasants who were following a neighbouring path, whilst watching them, and laughing. Blanche, full of alarm, drew away from her lover.

      “I am lost!” she exclaimed, turning quite pale. “Those men will inform my uncle. Ah! for pity’s sake, Philippe, save me!”

      The young man jumped up on hearing her cry.

      “If you wish me to save you,” he replied, impetuously, “you must follow me! Come, let us fly together! Tomorrow, your uncle will consent to our marriage, and we shall be united for evermore.”

      “Fly, fly,” repeated the child. “Ah! I fear I have not the courage to do so. I am too weak, too timid.”

      “I will sustain you, Blanche. We will live a life of love.”

      Blanche, without hearing, without replying, let her head drop on Philippe’s shoulder.

      “Oh! I dread, I dread the convent,” she resumed, after a time, in a low voice. “You will marry me, you will love me always?”

      “I love you. See, I am on my knees.”

      Then, closing her eyes, yielding, Blanche hastily descended the slope, clinging to the arm of Philippe who had risen. After she had gone some distance, she looked back a last time at the home she was leaving, and a poignant emotion filled her eyes with tears.

      A minute’s error had sufficed to throw her into the young man’s arms, exhausted and confiding. She loved Philippe with all the warmth of a first passion, with all the folly of her inexperience. She was running away like a schoolgirl, voluntarily, and without weighing the terrible consequences of her flight. And Philippe was carrying her off, intoxicated with his victory and quivering at feeling her moving and panting at his side.

      At first he thought of hastening to Marseille to procure a vehicle. But he was afraid СКАЧАТЬ