THK FRENCH CONVULSIVES. 195 



spirited, well-proportioned, hardy, active ; those handsome ears which me- 

 naced the skies, that smile of playfulness which defied misfortune, that trot 

 so light and graceful, this motion so graceful, so animated. I had become 

 infatuated with both ! And then they understood each other so perfectly ! the 

 name of Chariot fell so naturally from her lips ! Happy pair ! neither had be- 

 stowed the least attention upon me. I, who had pursued them with so much 

 ardour, who admired them so much, they had not once looked upon me. Mean- 

 time I was retracing my steps by the shortest road, no longer taking notice 

 of the new born herbage ; nor the windmills, or any part of the delightful 

 landscape which in the morning had engaged me. I was melancholy and 

 ill-humoured, like a man quite astonished at finding himself alone. An in- 

 cident aroused me from my reverie. I was passing by a great boor of a pea- 

 sant, a rustic in every sense of the term, who stalked behind a miserable ass 

 loaded with dung ; he was beating the poor animal beyond all conscience. 

 'Ah, Chariot/ cried he, after a particular infliction. Chariot! I turned 

 round I gazed luckless animal! it was he: it was he that bent under 

 that disgraceful burden : he that but a short time since pranced beneath 

 that ideal form ; he carry dung and writhe beneath the lash ! What a sud- 

 den transition ! what an unexpected metamorphosis. I passed in front of 

 Chariot, casting a look of compassion on him, which he returned me as well 

 as he was able. I was unhappy for a week : that young girl and this rustic, 

 myself, and this manure gatherer upon the same back, and then I know not 

 what dismal presentiment would cross my mind, touching the fate of the 

 pretty village girl." 



This incident has made an indelible impression on our author's 

 mind. In vain he visits the Bon Lapin at Vauvres. Henriette is no 

 where to be seen. From being gay, jovial,, and light-hearted, he be- 

 comes melancholy., morose, and ennuye : the dark reflection of some 

 passion, a la Werther, overcasts his mind and clouds his existence. 

 To this new state, there is wanting an end, a heroine, in a word, 

 unity, the young peasant girl of Vauvres. At length he finds her. 



" I met her one morning in turning the corner of a street. She had no 

 longer her faded straw bonnet, her fresh crimson complexion. Yet it w&s 

 she ; neither her gloves or boots, nor her new bonnet, nor the silky rustling 

 of her robe, nor her constrained or quiet pace, prevented me from recogniz- 

 ing her. It was Henriette. She walked with an air of dignity, with de- 

 clined head and furtive look : although she stopped at all the milliners shops 

 and wherever there was anything to be seen, yet she had the appearance of 

 being in a hurry, and of wishing to proceed quickly ; but the present moment 

 was stronger than her resolution and subdued her will. In fine, her modest 

 air, her becoming deportment, the practised reserve visible in her whole 

 person, caused me to conclude that she was lost." 



He follows her steps, and after witnessing the utter indifference 

 with which she gazes on two or three exhibitions of calamity and 

 distress they meet enters with her into the Morgue. 



" The morgue is a little building which seems to mount guard in front of 

 an hospital : the roof is a dome, clothed with marine herbs, and with an 

 evergreen plant, which has a charming effect. The morgue may be recog- 

 nized at a distance ; the waters that lave its base, are black, and clogged with 

 filth. You enter without question ; the low portal is always open. The 

 walls perspire. In the midst of this solitary hall are arranged four or five 

 stone tables, upon which are stretched as many corpses, sometimes, as 

 during the great heats, and the new melodrames, two bodies to each table. 

 On this day there were but three ; the first was an old man who had frac- 



