“Ah!verygood!Ithankyou。“
Andassoonastheywerealone，“Whydon’tyouacceptMonsieurBoulanger’skindoffer？“
Sheassumedasulkyair，inventedathousandexcuses，andfinallydeclaredthatperhapsitwouldlookodd。
“Well，whatthedeucedoIcareforthat？“saidCharles，makingapirouette。“Healthbeforeeverything!Youarewrong。“
“AndhowdoyouthinkIcanridewhenIhaven’tgotahabit？“
“Youmustorderone，“heanswered。
Theriding-habitdecidedher。
Whenthehabitwasready，CharleswrotetoMonsieurBoulangerthathiswifewasathiscommand，andthattheycountedonhisgood-nature。
ThenextdayatnoonRodolpheappearedatCharles’sdoorwithtwosaddle-horses。Onehadpinkrosettesathisearsandadeerskinside-saddle。
Rodolphehadputonhighsoftboots，sayingtohimselfthatnodoubtshehadneverseenanythinglikethem。Infact，Emmawascharmedwithhisappearanceashestoodonthelandinginhisgreatvelvetcoatandwhitecorduroybreeches。Shewasready；shewaswaitingforhim。
Justinescapedfromthechemist’stoseeherstart，andthechemistalsocameout。HewasgivingMonsieurBoulangeralittlegoodadvice。
“Anaccidenthappenssoeasily。Becareful!Yourhorsesperhapsaremettlesome。“
Sheheardanoiseaboveher；itwasFelicitedrummingonthewindowpanestoamuselittleBerthe。Thechildblewherakiss；
hermotheransweredwithawaveofherwhip。
“Apleasantride!“criedMonsieurHomais。“Prudence!aboveall，prudence!“Andheflourishedhisnewspaperashesawthemdisappear。
Assoonashefelttheground，Emma’shorsesetoffatagallop。
Rodolphegallopedbyherside。Nowandthentheyexchangedaword。Herfigureslightlybent，herhandwellup，andherrightarmstretchedout，shegaveherselfuptothecadenceofthemovementthatrockedherinhersaddle。AtthebottomofthehillRodolphegavehishorseitshead；theystartedtogetheratabound，thenatthetopsuddenlythehorsesstopped，andherlargeblueveilfellabouther。
ItwasearlyinOctober。Therewasfogovertheland。Hazycloudshoveredonthehorizonbetweentheoutlinesofthehills；others，rentasunder，floatedupanddisappeared。Sometimesthroughariftintheclouds，beneatharayofsunshine，gleamedfromafartherootsofYonville，withthegardensatthewater’sedge，theyards，thewallsandthechurchsteeple。Emmahalfclosedhereyestopickoutherhouse，andneverhadthispoorvillagewhereshelivedappearedsosmall。Fromtheheightonwhichtheywerethewholevalleyseemedanimmensepalelakesendingoffitsvapourintotheair。Clumpsoftreeshereandtherestoodoutlikeblackrocks，andthetalllinesofthepoplarsthatroseabovethemistwerelikeabeachstirredbythewind。
Bytheside，ontheturfbetweenthepines，abrownlightshimmeredinthewarmatmosphere。Theearth，ruddylikethepowderoftobacco，deadenedthenoiseoftheirsteps，andwiththeedgeoftheirshoesthehorsesastheywalkedkickedthefallenfirconesinfrontofthem。
RodolpheandEmmathuswentalongtheskirtofthewood。Sheturnedawayfromtimetotimetoavoidhislook，andthenshesawonlythepinetrunksinlines，whosemonotonoussuccessionmadeheralittlegiddy。Thehorseswerepanting；theleatherofthesaddlescreaked。
Justastheywereenteringtheforestthesunshoneout。
“Godprotectsus!“saidRodolphe。
“Doyouthinkso？“shesaid。
“Forward!forward!“hecontinued。
He“tchk’d“withhistongue。Thetwobeastssetoffatatrot。
LongfernsbytheroadsidecaughtinEmma’sstirrup。
Rodolpheleantforwardandremovedthemastheyrodealong。Atothertimes，toturnasidethebranches，hepassedclosetoher，andEmmafelthiskneebrushingagainstherleg。Theskywasnowblue，theleavesnolongerstirred。Therewerespacesfullofheatherinflower，andplotsofvioletsalternatedwiththeconfusedpatchesofthetreesthatweregrey，fawn，orgoldencoloured，accordingtothenatureoftheirleaves。Ofteninthethicketwasheardtheflutteringofwings，orelsethehoarse，softcryoftheravensflyingoffamidsttheoaks。
Theydismounted。Rodolphefastenedupthehorses。Shewalkedoninfrontonthemossbetweenthepaths。Butherlonghabitgotinherway，althoughshehelditupbytheskirt；andRodolphe，walkingbehindher，sawbetweentheblackclothandtheblackshoethefinenessofherwhitestocking，thatseemedtohimasifitwereapartofhernakedness。
Shestopped。“Iamtired，“shesaid。
“Come，tryagain，“hewenton。“Courage!“
Thensomehundredpacesfartheronsheagainstopped，andthroughherveil，thatfellsidewaysfromherman’shatoverherhips，herfaceappearedinabluishtransparencyasifshewerefloatingunderazurewaves。
“Butwherearewegoing？“
Hedidnotanswer。Shewasbreathingirregularly。Rodolphelookedroundhimbitinghismoustache。Theycametoalargerspacewherethecoppicehadbeencut。Theysatdownonthetrunkofafallentree，andRodolphebeganspeakingtoherofhislove。Hedidnotbeginbyfrighteningherwithcompliments。Hewascalm，serious，melancholy。
Emmalistenedtohimwithbowedhead，andstirredthebitsofwoodonthegroundwiththetipofherfoot。Butatthewords，“Arenotourdestiniesnowone？“
“Oh，no!shereplied。“Youknowthatwell。Itisimpossible!“
Sherosetogo。Heseizedherbythewrist。Shestopped。Then，havinggazedathimforafewmomentswithanamorousandhumidlook，shesaidhurriedly——
“Ah!donotspeakofitagain!Wherearethehorses？Letusgoback。“
Hemadeagestureofangerandannoyance。Sherepeated：
“Wherearethehorses？Wherearethehorses？“
Thensmilingastrangesmile，hispupilfixed，histeethset，headvancedwithoutstretchedarms。Sherecoiledtrembling。Shestammered：
“Oh，youfrightenme!Youhurtme!Letmego!“
“Ifitmustbe，“hewenton，hisfacechanging；andheagainbecamerespectful，caressing，timid。Shegavehimherarm。Theywentback。Hesaid——
“Whatwasthematterwithyou？Why？Idonotunderstand。Youweremistaken，nodoubt。InmysoulyouareasaMadonnaonapedestal，inaplacelofty，secure，immaculate。ButIneedyoutolive!Imusthaveyoureyes，yourvoice，yourthought!Bemyfriend，mysister，myangel!“
Andheputouthisarmroundherwaist。Shefeeblytriedtodisengageherself。Hesupportedherthusastheywalkedalong。
Buttheyheardthetwohorsesbrowsingontheleaves。
“Oh!onemoment!“saidRodolphe。“Donotletusgo!Stay!“
Hedrewherfartherontoasmallpoolwhereduckweedsmadeagreennessonthewater。Fadedwaterlilieslaymotionlessbetweenthereeds。Atthenoiseoftheirstepsinthegrass，frogsjumpedawaytohidethemselves。
“Iamwrong!Iamwrong!“shesaid。“Iammadtolistentoyou!“
“Why？Emma!Emma!“
“Oh，Rodolphe!“saidtheyoungwomanslowly，leaningonhisshoulder。
Theclothofherhabitcaughtagainstthevelvetofhiscoat。Shethrewbackherwhiteneck，swellingwithasigh，andfaltering，intears，withalongshudderandhidingherface，shegaveherselfuptohim——
Theshadesofnightwerefalling；thehorizontalsunpassingbetweenthebranchesdazzledtheeyes。Hereandtherearoundher，intheleavesorontheground，trembledluminouspatches，asithummingbirdsflyingabouthadscatteredtheirfeathers。Silencewaseverywhere；somethingsweetseemedtocomeforthfromthetrees；shefeltherheart，whosebeatinghadbegunagain，andthebloodcoursingthroughherfleshlikeastreamofmilk。Thenfaraway，beyondthewood，ontheotherhills，sheheardavagueprolongedcry，avoicewhichlingered，andinsilenceshehearditminglinglikemusicwiththelastpulsationsofherthrobbingnerves。Rodolphe，acigarbetweenhislips，wasmendingwithhispenknifeoneofthetwobrokenbridles。
TheyreturnedtoYonvillebythesameroad。Onthemudtheysawagainthetracesoftheirhorsessidebyside，thesamethickets，thesamestonestothegrass；nothingaroundthemseemedchanged；
andyetforhersomethinghadhappenedmorestupendousthanifthemountainshadmovedintheirplaces。Rodolphenowandagainbentforwardandtookherhandtokissit。
Shewascharmingonhorseback——upright，withherslenderwaist，herkneebentonthemaneofherhorse，herfacesomewhatflushedbythefreshairintheredoftheevening。
OnenteringYonvilleshemadeherhorsepranceintheroad。
Peoplelookedatherfromthewindows。