We were off!
III
At the corner of Rue Revel and the Place de la Liberté we skidded as the chauffeur turned sharply to avoid a child playing just off the sidewalk.
We slowed down along the Boulevard de Strasbourg on account of crowded traffic. I was shaken up as we stopped short under the Porte Nôtre Dame to prevent collision with a truck.
We sped along through the Faubourg de Saint-Jean-du-Var between two rows of tall narrow houses propped one against the other. Every three quarters of a mile we passed a trolley car. Some workmen were repairing the road under the railroad bridge. They had to jump to get out of our way; but a train passing overhead drowned the curses they sent after us.
It had stopped raining; but the road was still wet and slippery. The gray sky seemed to reach down and touch the roofs of dark tiling. Not a ray of sunshine brightened the landscape, depressing under the best conditions, but ghastly now under that mournful light.
We reached the outskirts of the settled region. One straight unbroken line of mud, the road reached out into the foggy heath. Here now to the left the foot-hills of the Faron were rising one above the other. I leaned out over the running board to get a good look at the top of the mountain. A thick bank of fog was hiding it from view. That was bad! The Grand Cap was higher still. I might have some trouble in groping my way along, and I might easily take the wrong trail. Yes, that was something to think about.... Though it worried me only for an instant.
The village of Valette, the first town outside Toulon in the direction of Nice! We were making forty miles an hour. Children scampered this way and that to get off the road ahead of us, screaming at the top of their voices. I looked at my watch. It was twenty-six minutes past three. I pulled the wind shield down and nudged the chauffeur with my elbow.