VIII
Original
Literary translation
§ 8.1
.
The prisoner had not yet got his thoughts properly in order.
§ 8.2
.
He could not be sure which of these strange events had really happened.
§ 8.3
, , .
The appearance at the little window of a fresh, round young face, with nothing at all threatening about it, made a pleasant episode in this succession of dreams.
§ 8.4
, .
For a few moments, the criminal and his guard studied each other in silence.
§ 8.5
— , .
“I am not a criminal,” Planchet said after a moment.
§ 8.6
- , ?
Why did he say that, when it was not a reply to anything anyone had said?
§ 8.7
.
It turned out that he had indeed guessed what the maiden with the scythe was thinking.
§ 8.8
, , , , .
Although she had said nothing in response to his protest, Planchet did not doubt that she was entirely in agreement, so much so that she even considered it unnecessary to affirm her belief in the accused man’s innocence by replying.
§ 8.9
, , , .
Simple people often see clearly and quickly, and even the elaborate deductions of a Sherlock Holmes may fail before a problem that a country girl's bright instinct solves in an instant.
§ 8.10
, , , .
So the investigation into the Planchet affair, conducted by Catherine in the blink of an eye, ended in a dismissal of the case.
§ 8.11
…
This resourceful young woman needed barely half a minute to devise an escape plan and, without a word, put it into action…
§ 8.12
, .
She positioned herself along the wall so that she could insert the tip of her scythe through the high window.
§ 8.13
, , .
Then, still holding the end of the handle, she moved away from the wall, so as to pass the metal bend between two bars.
§ 8.14
, .
After that, all she had to do was advance straight toward the window while the scythe moved squarely into the barn.
§ 8.15
— , .
“There,” said Catherine.
§ 8.16
.
“We mustn’t waste time.
§ 8.17
.
The gendarmerie is two leagues from here.
§ 8.18
- .
Let me slip the end of the scythe between the rope and your back.
§ 8.19
, , , , .
You’re going to help me a little by moving, because it isn’t very easy to saw through the rope from up here at the window.
§ 8.20
, .
Besides, I’ll have to cut it in two places, judging by the way he’s tied you up.”
§ 8.21
, ( ).
The rope was fairly new, and the scythe was not cutting particularly well (it was being used a little outside its specialty).
§ 8.22
.
It took a good quarter of an hour to free Mr. Planchet from his bonds.
§ 8.23
, , …
Once the work was done, Catherine did not think of resting, although she had worked hard…
§ 8.24
— , , …
“Under the hay, near the chest, there’s a spare key…”
§ 8.25
?
“Have you found it?”
§ 8.26
?
“Let me see?”
§ 8.27
, .
“Yes, that’s it.”
§ 8.28
.
“Open the door now.”
§ 8.29
.
Catherine had already gone around the building when Planchet opened the door.
§ 8.30
, , .
He saw the young woman on the threshold, bathed in light, an allegory of Liberty.
§ 8.31
— .
“Now we must leave.”
§ 8.32
, .
But ever since Mr. Planchet had become a free man again, all sorts of civilized considerations had settled back into his worldly mind.
§ 8.33
— ?
“I have to leave?”
§ 8.34
.
“Very well.”
§ 8.35
-- ?
“And what will they say to you for letting me escape?”
§ 8.36
— .
“They can say whatever they please.”
§ 8.37
.
That was not an answer.
§ 8.38
, , .
In any case, it was not enough for the generous Mr. Planchet, whose kindly nature could only be moved by the act of devotion he had seen performed on his behalf.
§ 8.39
— , -, …
“If that’s how it is,” he said, “I’m not leaving…”
§ 8.40
, .
She looked at him, a little surprised.
§ 8.41
— , , !
“Or else, since I don’t want them to give you any trouble, you’re coming with me!”
§ 8.42
— ! -…
“Oh!” she exclaimed…
§ 8.43
:
She added in a low voice:
§ 8.44
— … …
“That's quite a thing… quite a thing…”
§ 8.45
— , .
“You have to make up your mind,” said Mr. Planchet.
§ 8.46
— - !
“What will Father say when he no longer sees me here!”
§ 8.47
— ?
“And what if the gendarmes take you away?”
§ 8.48
, .
“First of all, they won’t take you away.”
§ 8.49
, , , .
“It’s me they’ll take away, because if you won’t come with me, I’ll stay here and wait for you.”
§ 8.50
— , -.
“Then we must go,” she said.
§ 8.51
, , .
She went up to her room, opened some drawers, and made a bundle.
§ 8.52
, .
Even in the country, a thoroughly innocent young woman does not leave home without taking a few little things along.
§ 8.53
, :
Once downstairs, with a shopping bag in her hand:
§ 8.54
— , -.
“We won’t foolishly take the main road,” she said.
§ 8.55
, .
“We’ll take the footpath to the river, then follow the water’s edge.”
§ 8.56
.
It was the first time Catherine had ever run away from home.
§ 8.57
.
Yet you would have thought she had done nothing else all her life.
§ 8.58
.
It was only later that Mr. Planchet wondered how she had managed to leave her father’s home with so little difficulty.
§ 8.59
, , , .
Later still, when he had come to know Catherine’s impulsive temperament better, and how disagreeable the innkeeper’s company could be, he better understood the country girl’s flight.
§ 8.60
, , …
He also learned afterward that Catherine had lost her mother when she was very young…
§ 8.61
, .
For the moment, they were not yet telling each other their family histories.
§ 8.62
.
After all, one must save something for the long winter evenings.
§ 8.63
, , , .
The river, which was not being pursued by the gendarmes, wandered leisurely through the countryside, twisting and turning.
§ 8.64
…
It knew that it would inevitably reach the point where it joined another river…
§ 8.65
, , , , .
After all, it was more sensible for the fugitives to accompany it on its leisurely stroll than to follow an almost straight line, along which criminals, and the gendarmes behind them, tend to rush headlong.
§ 8.66
, .
Besides, the riverbank offered plenty of cover.
§ 8.67
, .
From thirty paces away, you could not tell whether the riverbank was deserted or whether people were using it.
§ 8.68
, , , , .
They walked on like this for a good half-league, Catherine utterly carefree, and Mr. Horace Planchet, too, won over by that air of complete security.
§ 8.69
, , .
At a bend in the river, they caught sight of a large suspension bridge.
§ 8.70
— , , , .
“That,” said Catherine, “the road that goes over the bridge, that’s another main road.”
§ 8.71
, , , .
A little footpath, a short way before the bridge, mischievously left the riverbank and went off to join the main road, climbing diagonally up the grassy slope.
§ 8.72
.
They followed its example.
§ 8.73
, .
When they reached the bridge, they saw a tree that had been waiting for them for some time already.
§ 8.74
.
They sat down in the obliging shade it spread around the base of its trunk.
§ 8.75
— , .
“It’s time to eat,” Catherine said calmly.
§ 8.76
… ? .
… Eat what? Planchet wondered.
§ 8.77
, , , .
But Catherine calmly took from her basket half a loaf of brown bread and a cheese wrapped in leaves.
§ 8.78
« ! .
“How perfectly she complements me!” thought Horace Planchet.
§ 8.79
, .
“To me, the genius for great business ventures.
§ 8.80
, . »
To her, the practical sense for the little necessities of life.”
§ 8.81
.
The feast was not over yet.
§ 8.82
, , .
Out of the basket came a delightful litre bottle, filled with a local white wine that went down very easily.
§ 8.83
, « », .
With their meal over, they saw a magnificent “heavy goods vehicle” arrive at just the right moment, a truck loaded with sacks of flour.
§ 8.84
.
The burly young man driving it had stopped very close to them to check his engine.
§ 8.85
, .
He looked at the travelers, who were continuing their journey on foot.
§ 8.86
.
At least one member of the pair struck him as likable.
§ 8.87
— ? -- .
“Which way are you going?” he asked Catherine.
§ 8.88
— , , .
“That way,” the innkeeper’s daughter said firmly, pointing in the direction the truck was going to take.
§ 8.89
— , , , , .
“As for me,” said the burly young man, “I’m going as far as the warehouses, the big building at the Patte-d’Oie junction, a little before Belfort.
§ 8.90
.
“That'll save those little legs of yours a good twelve kilometers, at least.
§ 8.91
, , , , .
You’ll get off before the building because, you know, carrying passengers isn’t part of my job, not even free of charge.
§ 8.92
.
I wouldn’t want the secretary coming along to reprimand me.”
§ 8.93
, .
All three took their places on the wide seat, and the truck set off again.
§ 8.94
, .
It was not traveling at racetrack speed, and there was no question of breaking any records.
§ 8.95
.
Still, it was moving forward.
§ 8.96
, , .
It managed to outpace all the pedestrians, and they even overtook a priest on a bicycle, though admittedly he was no longer very young.
§ 8.97
.
The driver was not exactly a nonstop talker.
§ 8.98
, .
The three of them had no acquaintances in common to gossip about.
§ 8.99
, , .
Nor were the major issues of foreign policy, still unresolved, counting on them for a solution.
§ 8.100
— , .
“The road is good,” the driver finally said.
§ 8.101
.
“They resurfaced it last autumn.
§ 8.102
, , , .
But with all the heavy goods vehicles that come through here, the rain and the winter weather on top of that, we’ll be bumping along again next season.
§ 8.103
, .
Not to mention the local car factories, which send chassis along here to be road-tested.
§ 8.104
, .
The fellows behind the wheel tear along like madmen, trying to get every last bit of performance out of the cars.
§ 8.105
.
Stones fly into the air when they go by.
§ 8.106
.
I wonder whether that does the road much good.”
§ 8.107
, , , , .
In short, he had said quite enough, and the remarks with which he had regaled his listeners, together with this free ride, were more than enough to establish his sociability.
§ 8.108
, , , .
From the Patte-d’Oie crossroads to the town, where Planchet and Catherine were heading, though they would just as readily have gone elsewhere, it was still an hour’s walk.
§ 8.109
, …
Their lunch had long since become a distant memory…
§ 8.110
, , , , .
Now the wicker basket contained nothing but clothes, a pair of ankle boots, a comb and a brush, articles of very limited edibility.
§ 8.111
, , , , , , .
The bottle, completely empty, could have been carried openly through the streets of New York, Chicago, or any other city in dry America without fear of a police citation.