Strange that a little moonlight, a few stars, a
breath of solitude should carry a man back to childhood and
childish things.
. . . . . .
It was three in the afternoon of the next day, and the sun lay
hot on the oak groves, and the air was full of warmth as we began
to climb the slope, midway up which the road to Auch shoots out
of the track. The yellow bracken and the fallen leaves underfoot
seemed to throw up light of themselves; and here and there a
patch of ruddy beech lay like a bloodstain on the hillside. In
front a herd of pigs routed among the mast, and grunted lazily;
and high above us a boy lay watching them. 'We part here,' I
said to my companion.
It was my plan to ride a little way along the road to Auch so as
to blind his eyes; then, leaving my horse in the forest, I would
go on foot to the Chateau. 'The sooner the better!' he answered
with a snarl. 'And I hope I may never see your face again,
Monsieur.'
But when we came to the wooden cross at the fork of the roads,
and were about to part, the boy we had seen leapt out of the fern
and came to meet us.
Pages:
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153