CHAPTER NINE

Six weeks went by, with no word from Rodolphe. At last, one evening, he appeared.

He thought to himself, "If she fell in love with me the first day at the show, she must have been dying to see me again, and she'll be more in love with me than ever now. Very well!"

And when he saw Emma turn pale when he entered, he knew he was right.

She was alone.

"I've been busy," he said. "I haven't been well."

"Nothing serious?" she asked quickly.

"Well, no ... I decided not to come."

"Why?"

"Emma! Can't you guess? I think of you everyday! I had to come to see you finally, but now I'll leave you ... Goodbye! I'll go away, far away, and you'll never hear from me."

Emma had never been told such things before, and she enjoyed hearing it.

"Though, I didn't come to visit you," he continued, "I used to get up at night, every night, and come here. I used to watch your house, looking for you ... Ah, you did not know I was so near and yet so far."

"Oh, you are good," she said, as she cried.

"No, I love you, that is all."

They both stood up when Charles came in.

"Good evening, Doctor," said Rodolphe. "Your wife has been telling me about her health ... "

Charles interrupted: "Yes, I am quite worried, indeed."

Rodolphe asked whether riding would improve her health.

"Why, of course, excellent! What do you say, dear?"

She said she didn't have a horse. Monsieur Rodolphe offered one of his. She declined.

After Rodolphe had left, Charles asked her, "Why don't you accept Monsieur Boulanger's offer?" said Charles. "It's extremely kind of him."

She told him it might look strange: a woman and a man riding together.

"Who cares what it looks like?" said Charles. "Health is more important."

"But I have no riding clothes."

"You'll have one very soon," he answered.

She decided.

When her riding clothes were made, Charles wrote to Monsieur Boulanger to say that his wife would wait for him to go riding, at his convenience.

The next day at noon, Rodolphe arrived at Charles' door with two horses. They rode into the forest. They stopped and dismounted.

"I'm tired," she said, as they walked.

"A bit farther!" he answered.

Soon after, she stopped again.

"Where are we going, then?" she asked.

He didn't answer. He looked around. They soon arrived at a field, and he declared his love for her. He was calm and serious. Emma listened, but could not look at him. Then, she interrupted him.

"No, no!" she said. "This cannot be. Don't say anymore. Where are the horses? Let's go back."

He looked tired and angry.

"Where are the horses? Where are the horses?" she repeated.

Smiling strangely, he did not speak.

"You frighten me! You make me feel ill! Let's go back!" she exclaimed.

"If we must return—"

She gave him her arm, and they turned to go.

"What is the matter?" he said. "What is it? I don't understand. I can't live without you. I need you, your eyes, your voice, and your thoughts! Oh, be my friend, my sister, my angel!"

And he put his arm around her, and they went.

"Stay, stay awhile!" said Rodolphe.

"It's wrong, wrong," she said, "it's crazy to listen to you."

"Why? Emma! Emma!"

"Oh, Rodolphe!" she sighed, and then leaned on his shoulder. She hid her face, then gave in to desire.

They returned the same way back to Yonville. As they went, they saw the same bushes, grass and stones as before. Nothing had changed, yet for her, something incredible had happened. Now and then Rodolphe took her hand and kissed it as they went.

At dinner, her husband said she looked well, but she did not hear him speak. That night, she often thought to herself: "I have a lover, a lover."

She remembered the heroines of the books she had read, women that had many lovers. These stories interested her, and now she felt that she was a part of one of those stories.

The next day passed delightfully. The lovers met. She told him about her misery, and he interrupted her with kisses. Starting from that day, they wrote to each other regularly every evening. Emma used to place her letters in a secret place in the garden, and he came to receive it, and left his own for her, which she thought too short.

One morning, when Charles left before the sunrise, she had a desire to see her lover. She decided that she could go there, stay an hour, and then be home before anyone was awake. She left to meet him.

"It's you! You!" he said. "How did you get here?"

"I love you!" she answered.

Whenever Charles would leave early, Emma would quickly dress and meet her lover at his home. Afterwards, she would explore the room, opening all his drawers. When they departed, Emma would cry. She wished she could stay with him forever. Something stronger than herself was forcing her to see him, until one day when she arrived unexpectedly, Rodolphe looked annoyed.

"What's the matter?" she said. "Aren't you well? Speak to me!"

He told her that her visits were dangerous; perhaps the neighbors would discover their secret, then her husband.

(end of section)