eblanc and the young girl at the
other end, "on their bench." He buttoned his coat up to the very top,
pulled it down on his body so that there might be no wrinkles, examined,
with a certain complaisance, the lustrous gleams of his trousers, and
marched on the bench. This march savored of an attack, and certainly
of a desire for conquest. So I say that he marched on the bench, as I
should say: "Hannibal marched on Rome."

However, all his movements were purely mechanical, and he had
interrupted none of the habitual preoccupations of his mind and labors.
At that moment, he was thinking that the Manuel du Baccalaureat was
a stupid book, and that it must have been drawn up by rare idiots, to
allow of three tragedies of Racine and only one comedy of Moliere being
analyzed therein as masterpieces of the human mind. There was a piercing
whistling going on in his ears. As he approached the bench, he held
fast to the folds in his coat, and fixed his eyes on the young girl. It
seemed to him that she filled the entire extremity of the alley with a
vague blue light.

In proportion as he drew near, his pace slackened more and more. On
arriving at some little distance from the bench, and long before he had
reached the end of the walk, he halted, and could not explain to himself
why he retraced his steps. He did not even say to himself that he would
not go as far as the end. It was only with difficulty that the young
girl could have perceived him in the distance and noted his fine
appearance in his new clothes. Nevertheless, he held himself very erect,
in case any one should be looking at him from behind.

He attained the opposite end, then came back, and this time he
approached a little nearer to the bench. He even got to within three
intervals of trees, but there he felt an indescribable impossibility of
proceeding further, and he hesitated. He thought he saw the young girl's
face bending towards him. But he exerted a manly and violent effort,
subdued his hesitation, and walked straight ahead. A few seconds later,
he rushed in front of the bench, erect and firm, reddening to the very
ears, without daring to cast a glance either to the right or to the
left, with his hand thrust into his coat like a statesman. At the moment
when he passed,--under the cannon of the place,--he felt his heart beat
wildly. As on the preceding day, she wore her damask gown and her crape
bonnet. He heard an ineffable voice, which must have been "her voic