“Come，“saidhe，“let’sbegin。“
Hewrote——
“Courage，Emma!courage!Iwouldnotbringmiseryintoyourlife。“
“Afterall，that’strue，“thoughtRodolphe。“Iamactinginherinterest；Iamhonest。“
“Haveyoucarefullyweighedyourresolution？DoyouknowtowhatanabyssIwasdraggingyou，poorangel？No，youdonot，doyou？
Youwerecomingconfidentandfearless，believinginhappinessinthefuture。Ah!unhappythatweare——insensate!“
Rodolphestoppedheretothinkofsomegoodexcuse。
“IfItoldherallmyfortuneislost？No!Besides，thatwouldstopnothing。Itwouldallhavetobebegunoveragainlateron。
Asifonecouldmakewomenlikethatlistentoreason!“Hereflected，thenwenton——
“Ishallnotforgetyou，ohbelieveit；andIshalleverhaveaprofounddevotionforyou；butsomeday，soonerorlater，thisardoursuchisthefateofhumanthingswouldhavegrownless，nodoubt。Lassitudewouldhavecometous，andwhoknowsifI
shouldnotevenhavehadtheatrociouspainofwitnessingyourremorse，ofsharingitmyself，sinceIshouldhavebeenitscause？Themereideaofthegriefthatwouldcometoyoutorturesme，Emma。Forgetme!WhydidIeverknowyou？Whywereyousobeautiful？Isitmyfault？OmyGod!No，no!Accuseonlyfate。“
“That’sawordthatalwaystells，“hesaidtohimself。
“Ah，ifyouhadbeenoneofthosefrivolouswomenthatonesees，certainlyImight，throughegotism，havetriedanexperiment，inthatcasewithoutdangerforyou。Butthatdeliciousexaltation，atonceyourcharmandyourtorment，haspreventedyoufromunderstanding，adorablewomanthatyouare，thefalsenessofourfutureposition。NorhadIreflecteduponthisatfirst，andI
restedintheshadeofthatidealhappinessasbeneaththatofthemanchineeltree，withoutforeseeingtheconsequences。“
“Perhapsshe’llthinkI’mgivingitupfromavarice。Ah，well!somuchtheworse；itmustbestopped!“
“Theworldiscruel，Emma。Whereverwemighthavegone，itwouldhavepersecutedus。Youwouldhavehadtoputupwithindiscreetquestions，calumny，contempt，insultperhaps。Insulttoyou!Oh!
AndI，whowouldplaceyouonathrone!Iwhobearwithmeyourmemoryasatalisman!ForIamgoingtopunishmyselfbyexileforalltheillIhavedoneyou。Iamgoingaway。WhitherIknownot。Iammad。Adieu!Begoodalways。Preservethememoryoftheunfortunatewhohaslostyou。Teachmynametoyourchild；letherrepeatitinherprayers。“
Thewicksofthecandlesflickered。Rodolphegotupto，shutthewindow，andwhenhehadsatdownagain——
“Ithinkit’sallright。Ah!andthisforfearsheshouldcomeandhuntmeup。“
“Ishallbefarawaywhenyoureadthesesadlines，forIhavewishedtofleeasquicklyaspossibletoshunthetemptationofseeingyouagain。Noweakness!Ishallreturn，andperhapslateronweshalltalktogetherverycoldlyofouroldlove。Adieu!“
Andtherewasalast“adieu“dividedintotwowords!“ADieu!“
whichhethoughtinveryexcellenttaste。
“NowhowamItosign？“hesaidtohimself。“’Yoursdevotedly？’
No!’Yourfriend？’Yes，that’sit。“
“Yourfriend。“
Here-readhisletter。Heconsidereditverygood。
“Poorlittlewoman!“hethoughtwithemotion。“She’llthinkmeharderthanarock。Thereoughttohavebeensometearsonthis；
butIcan’tcry；itisn’tmyfault。“Then，havingemptiedsomewaterintoaglass，Rodolphedippedhisfingerintoit，andletabigdropfallonthepaper，thatmadeapalestainontheink。
Thenlookingforaseal，hecameupontheone“Amornelcor。“
“Thatdoesn’tatallfitinwiththecircumstances。Pshaw!nevermind!“
Afterwhichhesmokedthreepipesandwenttobed。
Thenextdaywhenhewasupatabouttwoo’clock——hehadsleptlate，Rodolphehadabasketofapricotspicked。Heputhisletteratthebottomundersomevineleaves，andatonceorderedGirard，hisploughman，totakeitwithcaretoMadameBovary。Hemadeuseofthismeansforcorrespondingwithher，sendingaccordingtotheseasonfruitsorgame。
“Ifsheasksafterme，“hesaid，“youwilltellherthatIhavegoneonajourney。Youmustgivethebaskettoherherself，intoherownhands。Getalongandtakecare!“
Girardputonhisnewblouse，knottedhishandkerchiefroundtheapricots，andwalkingwithgreatheavystepsinhisthickiron-boundgaloshes，madehiswaytoYonville。
MadameBovary，whenhegottoherhouse，wasarrangingabundleoflinenonthekitchen-tablewithFelicite。
“Here，“saidtheploughboy，“issomethingforyou——fromthemaster。“
Shewasseizedwithapprehension，andasshesoughtinherpocketforsomecoppers，shelookedatthepeasantwithhaggardeyes，whilehehimselflookedatherwithamazement，notunderstandinghowsuchapresentcouldsomoveanyone。Atlasthewentout。
Feliciteremained。Shecouldbearitnolonger；sheranintothesittingroomasiftotaketheapricotsthere，overturnedthebasket，toreawaytheleaves，foundtheletter，openedit，and，asifsomefearfulfirewerebehindher，Emmaflewtoherroomterrified。
Charleswasthere；shesawhim；hespoketoher；sheheardnothing，andshewentonquicklyupthestairs，breathless，distraught，dumb，andeverholdingthishorriblepieceofpaper，thatcrackledbetweenherfingerslikeaplateofsheet-iron。Onthesecondfloorshestoppedbeforetheatticdoor，whichwasclosed。
Thenshetriedtocalmherself；sherecalledtheletter；shemustfinishit；shedidnotdareto。Andwhere？How？Shewouldbeseen!“Ah，no!here，“shethought，“Ishallbeallright。“
Emmapushedopenthedoorandwentin。
Theslatesthrewstraightdownaheavyheatthatgrippedhertemples，stifledher；shedraggedherselftotheclosedgarret-window。Shedrewbackthebolt，andthedazzlinglightburstinwithaleap。
Opposite，beyondtheroofs，stretchedtheopencountrytillitwaslosttosight。Downbelow，underneathher，thevillagesquarewasempty；thestonesofthepavementglittered，theweathercocksonthehousesweremotionless。Atthecornerofthestreet，fromalowerstorey，roseakindofhummingwithstridentmodulations。
ItwasBinetturning。
Sheleantagainsttheembrasureofthewindow，andrereadtheletterwithangrysneers。Butthemoreshefixedherattentionuponit，themoreconfusedwereherideas。Shesawhimagain，heardhim，encircledhimwithherarms，andthrobsofherheart，thatbeatagainstherbreastlikeblowsofasledge-hammer，grewfasterandfaster，withunevenintervals。Shelookedaboutherwiththewishthattheearthmightcrumbleintopieces。Whynotenditall？Whatrestrainedher？Shewasfree。Sheadvanced，lookingatthepaving-stones，sayingtoherself，“Come!come!“
Theluminousraythatcamestraightupfrombelowdrewtheweightofherbodytowardstheabyss。Itseemedtoherthatthegroundoftheoscillatingsquarewentupthewallsandthatthefloordippedonendlikeatossingboat。Shewasrightattheedge，almosthanging，surroundedbyvastspace。Theblueoftheheavenssuffusedher，theairwaswhirlinginherhollowhead；shehadbuttoyield，toletherselfbetaken；andthehummingofthelatheneverceased，likeanangryvoicecallingher。
“Emma!Emma!“criedCharles。
Shestopped。
“Whereverareyou？Come!“
Thethoughtthatshehadjustescapedfromdeathalmostmadeherfaintwithterror。Sheclosedhereyes；thensheshiveredatthetouchofahandonhersleeve；itwasFelicite。
“Masteriswaitingforyou，madame；thesoupisonthetable。“
Andshehadtogodowntositattable。
Shetriedtoeat。Thefoodchokedher。Thensheunfoldedhernapkinasiftoexaminethedarns，andshereallythoughtofapplyingherselftothiswork，countingthethreadsinthelinen。
Suddenlytheremembranceoftheletterreturnedtoher。Howhadshelostit？Wherecouldshefindit？Butshefeltsuchwearinessofspiritthatshecouldnoteveninventapretextforleavingthetable。Thenshebecameacoward；shewasafraidofCharles；
heknewall，thatwascertain!Indeedhepronouncedthesewordsinastrangemanner：
“WearenotlikelytoseeMonsieurRodolphesoonagain，itseems。“
“Whotoldyou？“shesaid，shuddering。