The lanterns had somewhat dazzled me, and I ploughed distressfully among
stones and rubbish-heaps. All the other houses in the village were both
dark and silent; and though I knocked at here and there a door, my
knocking was unanswered. It was a bad business; I gave up Fouzilhac with
my curses. The rain had stopped, and the wind, which still kept rising,
began to dry my coat and trousers. 'Very well,' thought I, 'water or no
water, I must camp.' But the first thing was to return to Modestine. I
am pretty sure I was twenty minutes groping for my lady in the dark; and
if it had not been for the unkindly services of the bog, into which I
once more stumbled, I might have still been groping for her at the dawn.
My next business was to gain the shelter of a wood, for the wind was cold
as well as boisterous. How, in this well-wooded district, I should have
been so long in finding one, is another of the insoluble mysteries of
this day's adventures; but I will take my oath that I put near an hour to
the discovery.
At last black trees began to show upon my left, and, suddenly crossing
the road, made a cave of unmitigated blackness right in front. I call it
a cave without exaggeration; to pass below that arch of leaves was like
entering a dungeon. I felt about until my hand encountered a stout
branch, and to this I tied Modestine, a haggard, drenched, desponding
donkey. Then I lowered my pack, laid it along the wall on the margin of
the road, and unbuckled the straps. I knew well enough where the lantern
was; but where were the candles? I groped and groped among the tumbled
articles, and, while I was thus groping, suddenly I touched the spirit-
lamp. Salvation! This would serve my turn as well. The wind roared
unwearyingly among the trees; I could hear the boughs tossing and the
leaves churning through half a mile of forest; yet the scene of my
encampment was not only as black as the pit, but admirably sheltered. At
the second match the wick caught flame. The light was both livid and
shifting; but it cut me off from the universe, and doubled the darkness
of the surrounding night.
I tied Modestine more conveniently for herself, and broke up half the
black bread for her supper, reserving the other half against the morning.
Then I gathered what I should want within reach, took off my wet boots
and gaiters, which I wrapped in my waterproof, arranged my knapsack for a
pillow under the flap of my sleeping-bag, insinuated my limbs into the
interior, and buckled myself in like a bambino. I opened a tin of
Bologna sausage and broke a cake of chocolate, and that was all I had to
eat. It may sound offensive, but I ate them together, bite by bite, by
way of bread and meat. All I had to wash down this revolting mixture was
neat brandy: a revolting beverage in itself. But I was rare and hungry;
ate well, and smoked one of the best cigarettes in my experience. Then I
put a stone in my straw hat, pulled the flap of my fur cap over my neck
and eyes, put my revolver ready to my hand, and snuggled well down among
the sheepskins.
I questioned at first if I were sleepy, for I felt my heart beating
faster than usual, as if with an agreeable excitement to which my mind
remained a stranger. But as soon as my eyelids touched, that subtle glue
leaped between them, and they would no more come separate. The wind
among the trees was my lullaby. Sometimes it sounded for minutes
together with a steady, even rush, not rising nor abating; and again it
would swell and burst like a great crashing breaker, and the trees would
patter me all over with big drops from the rain of the afternoon. Night
after night, in my own bedroom in the country, I have given ear to this
perturbing concert of the wind among the woods; but whether it was a
difference in the trees, or the lie of the ground, or because I was
myself outside and in the midst of it, the fact remains that the wind
sang to a different tune among these woods of Gevaudan. I hearkened and
hearkened; and meanwhile sleep took gradual possession of my body and
subdued my thoughts and senses; but still my last waking effort was to
listen and distinguish, and my last conscious state was one of wonder at
the foreign clamour in my ears.
Twice in the course of the dark hours - once when a stone galled me
underneath the sack, and again when the poor patient Modestine, growing
angry, pawed and stamped upon the road - I was recalled for a brief while
to consciousness, and saw a star or two overhead, and the lace-like edge
of the foliage against the sky. When I awoke for the third time
(Wednesday, September 25th), the world was flooded with a blue light, the
mother of the dawn. I saw the leaves labouring in the wind and the
ribbon of the road; and, on turning my head, there was Modestine tied to
a beech, and standing half across the path in an attitude of inimitable
patience. I closed my eyes again, and set to thinking over the
experience of the night. I was surprised to find how easy and pleasant
it had been, even in this tempestuous weather. The stone which annoyed
me would not have been there, had I not been forced to camp blindfold in
the opaque night; and I had felt no other inconvenience, except when my
feet encountered the lantern or the second volume of Peyrat's Pastors of
the Desert among the mixed contents of my sleeping-bag; nay, more, I had
felt not a touch of cold, and awakened with unusually lightsome and clear
sensations.
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