Madame Bovary - Page 254/262

Old Rouault on his way back began quietly smoking a pipe, which Homais

in his innermost conscience thought not quite the thing. He also noticed

that Monsieur Binet had not been present, and that Tuvache had "made

off" after mass, and that Theodore, the notary's servant wore a blue

coat, "as if one could not have got a black coat, since that is the

custom, by Jove!" And to share his observations with others he went from

group to group. They were deploring Emma's death, especially Lheureux,

who had not failed to come to the funeral.

"Poor little woman! What a trouble for her husband!"

The druggist continued, "Do you know that but for me he would have

committed some fatal attempt upon himself?"

"Such a good woman! To think that I saw her only last Saturday in my

shop."

"I haven't had leisure," said Homais, "to prepare a few words that I

would have cast upon her tomb."

Charles on getting home undressed, and old Rouault put on his blue

blouse. It was a new one, and as he had often during the journey wiped

his eyes on the sleeves, the dye had stained his face, and the traces of

tears made lines in the layer of dust that covered it.

Madame Bovary senior was with them. All three were silent. At last the

old fellow sighed-"Do you remember, my friend, that I went to Tostes once when you had

just lost your first deceased? I consoled you at that time. I thought of

something to say then, but now--" Then, with a loud groan that shook his

whole chest, "Ah! this is the end for me, do you see! I saw my wife go,

then my son, and now to-day it's my daughter."

He wanted to go back at once to Bertaux, saying that he could not sleep

in this house. He even refused to see his granddaughter.

"No, no! It would grieve me too much. Only you'll kiss her many times

for me. Good-bye! you're a good fellow! And then I shall never forget

that," he said, slapping his thigh. "Never fear, you shall always have

your turkey."

But when he reached the top of the hill he turned back, as he had turned

once before on the road of Saint-Victor when he had parted from her. The

windows of the village were all on fire beneath the slanting rays of the

sun sinking behind the field. He put his hand over his eyes, and saw

in the horizon an enclosure of walls, where trees here and there formed

black clusters between white stones; then he went on his way at a gentle

trot, for his nag had gone lame.