The chemist and the cure plunged anew into their occupations,
not without sleeping from time to time, of which they
accused each other reciprocally at each fresh awakening.
Then Monsieur Bournisien sprinkled the room with holy
water and Homais threw a little chlorine water on the
floor.
Felicite had taken care to put on the chest of drawers,
for each of them, a bottle of brandy, some cheese,
and a large roll. And the druggist, who could
not hold out any longer, about four in the morning
sighed—
“My word! I should like to take some sustenance.”
The priest did not need any persuading; he went out
to go and say mass, came back, and then they ate and
hobnobbed, giggling a little without knowing why,
stimulated by that vague gaiety that comes upon us
after times of sadness, and at the last glass the
priest said to the druggist, as he clapped him on
the shoulder—
“We shall end by understanding one another.”
In the passage downstairs they met the undertaker’s
men, who were coming in. Then Charles for two
hours had to suffer the torture of hearing the hammer
resound against the wood. Next day they lowered
her into her oak coffin, that was fitted into the
other two; but as the bier was too large, they had
to fill up the gaps with the wool of a mattress.
At last, when the three lids had been planed down,
nailed, soldered, it was placed outside in front of
the door; the house was thrown open, and the people
of Yonville began to flock round.
Old Rouault arrived, and fainted on the Place when
he saw the black cloth!
He had only received the chemist’s letter thirty-six
hours after the event; and, from consideration for
his feelings, Homais had so worded it that it was
impossible to make out what it was all about.
First, the old fellow had fallen as if struck by apoplexy.
Next, he understood that she was not dead, but she
might be. At last, he had put on his blouse,
taken his hat, fastened his spurs to his boots, and
set out at full speed; and the whole of the way old
Rouault, panting, was torn by anguish. Once even
he was obliged to dismount. He was dizzy; he
heard voices round about him; he felt himself going
mad.
Day broke. He saw three black hens asleep in
a tree. He shuddered, horrified at this omen.
Then he promised the Holy Virgin three chasubles for
the church, and that he would go barefooted from the
cemetery at Bertaux to the chapel of Vassonville.
He entered Maromme shouting for the people of the
inn, burst open the door with a thrust of his shoulder,
made for a sack of oats, emptied a bottle of sweet
cider into the manger, and again mounted his nag, whose
feet struck fire as it dashed along.
He said to himself that no doubt they would save her;
the doctors would discover some remedy surely.
He remembered all the miraculous cures he had been
told about. Then she appeared to him dead.
She was there; before his eyes, lying on her back
in the middle of the road. He reined up, and
the hallucination disappeared.
