tain of this now, by a divination
in which there was less of reasoning than of subtle prescience. And the
rest of the journey seemed terribly long, for her anguish increased
in proportion as she approached its termination. And worse than all,
arriving at Marseilles at half-past twelve, there was no train for
Plassans until twenty minutes past three. Three long hours of waiting!
She breakfasted at the buffet in the railway station, eating hurriedly,
as if she was afraid of missing this train; then she dragged herself
into the dusty garden, going from bench to bench in the pale, mild
sunshine, among omnibuses and hackney coaches. At last she was once more
in the train, which stopped at every little way station. When they were
approaching Plassans she put her head out of the window eagerly, longing
to see the town again after her short absence of two months. It seemed
to her as if she had been away for twenty years, and that everything
must be changed. When the train was leaving the little station of
Sainte-Marthe her emotion reached its height when, leaning out, she
saw in the distance La Souleiade with the two secular cypresses on the
terrace, which could be seen three leagues off.

It was five o'clock, and twilight was already falling. The train
stopped, and Clotilde descended. But it was a surprise and a keen grief
to her not to see Pascal waiting for her on the platform. She had been
saying to herself since they had left Lyons: "If I do not see him at
once, on the arrival of the train, it will be because he is ill." He
might be in the waiting-room, however, or with a carriage outside. She
hurried forward, but she saw no one but Father Durieu, a driver whom the
doctor was in the habit of employing. She questioned him eagerly. The
old man, a taciturn Provencal, was in no haste to answer. His wagon was
there, and he asked her for the checks for her luggage, wishing to see
about the trunks before anything else. In a trembling voice she repeated
her question:

"Is everybody well, Father Durieu?"

"Yes, mademoiselle."

And she was obliged to put question after question to him before she
succeeded in eliciting the information that it was Martine who had told
him, at about six o'clock the day before, to be at the station with his
wagon, in time to meet the train. He had not seen the doctor, no one had
seen him, for two months past. It might very well be since he was not
here that he had been obliged to take to his bed, fo