"I don't love her," he said to himself; "I hardly know her; I cannot love her! In any event I should love her to no purpose! It is not she who attracts me any more than her worthy father, his romantic château, his environment of repose, happiness and freedom from care. I long to see people who are happy, so that I may forget that I am not and never shall be!"
He met Sylvain Charasson, who was engaged in stretching cloth in the Creuse. The child ran to meet him with an eager delighted air.
"You won't find Monsieur Antoine," he said. "He's gone to market to sell six sheep; but Mademoiselle Janille's at home, and Mademoiselle Gilberte, too."
"Do you think I shall not disturb them?"
"Oh! not at all, not at all, Monsieur Emile; they'll be very glad to see you, for they often talk about you with Monsieur Antoine at dinner. They say that they think a great deal of you."
"Take my horse, then," said Emile, "I can go faster on foot."
"Yes, yes," replied the child. "Look, just behind what used to be the terrace. You climb the breach, take a little jump and you'll be in the courtyard. That's Jean's road."
Emile leaped down on the grass, which deadened the sound of his footsteps, and approached the square pavilion without frightening the two goats, who seemed to know him already.
Monsieur Sacripant, who was no prouder than his master, and did not disdain to perform at need the duties of sheep dog, although he belonged to the nobler breed of hunters, had escorted the sheep to market.
As he was about to enter, Emile found that his heart was beating so fast—a fact that he attributed to his rapid climb up the side of the cliff—that he paused a moment to recover himself and make his entrée with due dignity. He heard the sound of a spinning-wheel inside, and no music had ever struck more pleasantly on his ear. Then the dull hissing of the little instrument of toil ceased and he heard Gilberte's voice saying: