She went on Thursdays. She got up and dressed
silently, in order not to awaken Charles, who would
have made remarks about her getting ready too early.
Next she walked up and down, went to the windows, and
looked out at the Place. The early dawn was broadening
between the pillars of the market, and the chemist’s
shop, with the shutters still up, showed in the pale
light of the dawn the large letters of his signboard.
When the clock pointed to a quarter past seven, she
went off to the “Lion d’Or,” whose
door Artemise opened yawning. The girl then made
up the coals covered by the cinders, and Emma remained
alone in the kitchen. Now and again she went
out. Hivert was leisurely harnessing his horses,
listening, moreover, to Mere Lefrancois, who, passing
her head and nightcap through a grating, was charging
him with commissions and giving him explanations that
would have confused anyone else. Emma kept beating
the soles of her boots against the pavement of the
yard.
At last, when he had eaten his soup, put on his cloak,
lighted his pipe, and grasped his whip, he calmly
installed himself on his seat.
The “Hirondelle” started at a slow trot,
and for about a mile stopped here and there to pick
up passengers who waited for it, standing at the border
of the road, in front of their yard gates.
Those who had secured seats the evening before kept
it waiting; some even were still in bed in their houses.
Hivert called, shouted, swore; then he got down from
his seat and went and knocked loudly at the doors.
The wind blew through the cracked windows.
The four seats, however, filled up. The carriage
rolled off; rows of apple-trees followed one upon
another, and the road between its two long ditches,
full of yellow water, rose, constantly narrowing towards
the horizon.
Emma knew it from end to end; she knew that after
a meadow there was a sign-post, next an elm, a barn,
or the hut of a lime-kiln tender. Sometimes even,
in the hope of getting some surprise, she shut her
eyes, but she never lost the clear perception of the
distance to be traversed.
At last the brick houses began to follow one another
more closely, the earth resounded beneath the wheels,
the “Hirondelle” glided between the gardens,
where through an opening one saw statues, a periwinkle
plant, clipped yews, and a swing. Then on a sudden
the town appeared. Sloping down like an amphitheatre,
and drowned in the fog, it widened out beyond the
bridges confusedly. Then the open country spread
away with a monotonous movement till it touched in
the distance the vague line of the pale sky.
Seen thus from above, the whole landscape looked immovable
as a picture; the anchored ships were massed in one
corner, the river curved round the foot of the green
hills, and the isles, oblique in shape, lay on the
water, like large, motionless, black fishes. The
