counting myself. So much for my miserable
shufflings and evasion! Ah! if one could only begin life over again!"

While thus lamenting his fate, the march of time went steadily on, with
its pitiless dropping out of seconds, minutes, and hours. The worst part
of winter was over; the March gales had dried up the forests; April was
tingeing the woods with its tender green; the song of the cuckoo was
already heard in the tufted bowers, and the festival of St. George had
passed.

Taking advantage of an unusually clear day, Julien went to visit a farm,
belonging to him, in the plain of Anjeures, on the border of the forest
of Maigrefontaine. After breakfasting with the farmer, he took the way
home through the woods, so that he might enjoy the first varied effects
of the season.

The forest of Maigrefontaine, situated on the slope of a hill, was full
of rocky, broken ground, interspersed with deep ravines, along which
narrow but rapid streams ran to swell the fishpond of La Thuiliere.
Julien had wandered away from the road, into the thick of the forest
where the budding vegetation was at its height, where the lilies
multiply and the early spring flowers disclose their umbellshaped
clusters, full of tiny, white stars. The sight of these blossoms, which
had such a tender meaning for him, since he had identified the name with
that of Reine, brought vividly before him the beloved image of the
young girl. He walked slowly and languidly on, heated by his feverish
recollections and desires, tormented by useless self-reproach, and
physically intoxicated by the balmy atmosphere and the odor of the
flowering shrubs at his feet. Arriving at the edge of a somewhat deep
pit, he tried to leap across with a single bound, but, whether he made
a false start, or that he was weakened and dizzy with the conflicting
emotions with which he had been battling, he missed his footing and
fell, twisting his ankle, on the side of the embankment. He rose with an
effort and put his foot to the ground, but a sharp pain obliged him to
lean against the trunk of a neighboring ash-tree. His foot felt as heavy
as lead, and every time he tried to straighten it his sufferings were
intolerable. All he could do was to drag himself along from one tree to
another until he reached the path.

Exhausted by this effort; he sat down on the grass, unbuttoned
his gaiter, and carefully unlaced his boot. His foot had swollen
considerably. He began to fear he had sprained it