“But no,” he said to himself, pulling himself together. “A supposition of that kind is absurd. A cataclysm? That only happens once in a thousand years. An oscillation of the ebb and flow? Fantasies in which I don’t believe. It can only be mere chance, a passing incident.”
That might be so. But what was it that produced this passing incident? In spite of himself he felt a vague dread. He thought of the inexplicable absence of Talencay. He thought of the connection which might exist between this absence and the dull menace of the danger he did not yet fully grasp. He thought of the scuttled boat.
“What’s the matter?” Aurelie asked. “You seem absent-minded.”
“The fact is, I’m beginning to believe that we are wasting our time here,” he said. “Since your grandfather’s friend is not coming, we had better go to him. The interview can take place quite as well at his house at Juvains.”
“But how are we to go? The boat seems useless.”
“There is a road to the right, very difficult for a woman, but all the same practicable,—only you will have to let yourself be carried.”
“Why shouldn’t I walk too?”
“What point is there in your getting wet? It’s just as well that I should be the only one to get into the water.” [[273]]
He made this suggestion without any afterthought. But he saw that she was blushing. The idea of being carried by him, as she had been carried along the Beaucourt Road, must be hateful to her.
They were silent, both of them embarrassed.