"I believe that we could travel faster on foot," said Edouard impatiently.
"Haven’t we time enough?" replied Alfred; "There is no hurry about our returning to the château; and you don’t need the whole night to bid Isaure farewell."
"I don’t know what the matter is with me, but it seems to me as if I cannot reach her side soon enough. Gloomy thoughts oppress me.—Alfred, do you believe in presentiments?"
"Nonsense! what childish folly! when one has had some trouble, when one has been deceived, betrayed in one’s affections, one dreads some new misfortune every instant; we call that having a presentiment, whereas it is simply the result of our frame of mind. Lucky people, those with whom everything succeeds, never have presentiments; and yet unpleasant things sometimes happen to them; but they have never foreseen them, because they don’t look at the dark side of things.—This infernal horse! he absolutely insists upon kneeling. François told me that at Clermont, where he went the other day, there were two very good horses for sale; if you would like to travel that way, I will buy them."
Edouard did not reply; he had relapsed into his reflections, and emerged from them only to say in a low voice:
"How dismal and gloomy this night is! what a difference from last night!"
"Yes," said Alfred; "I begin to think that in winter, life in Auvergne is not very hilarious."
"Ah! If she had loved me, as she said; if I might have lived with her, these snow-covered mountains, these glaciers, this wild landscape, would always have been cheerful in my eyes!"
"Come, come, Edouard, be sensible; time will console you. I, too, loved Isaure dearly; oh, yes! I was mad over her; but I succeeded in triumphing over that love."
Edouard made no reply, but he sighed and said to himself: "He was very far from loving her as I do!"