The travellers passed an agreeable evening; but St. Aubert was fatigued
with his journey; and, as Valancourt seemed again sensible of pain, they
separated soon after supper.
In the morning St. Aubert found that Valancourt had passed a restless
night; that he was feverish, and his wound very painful. The surgeon,
when he dressed it, advised him to remain quietly at Beaujeu; advice
which was too reasonable to be rejected. St. Aubert, however, had no
favourable opinion of this practitioner, and was anxious to commit
Valancourt into more skilful hands; but learning, upon enquiry, that
there was no town within several leagues which seemed more likely to
afford better advice, he altered the plan of his journey, and determined
to await the recovery of Valancourt, who, with somewhat more ceremony
than sincerity, made many objections to this delay.
By order of his surgeon, Valancourt did not go out of the house that
day; but St. Aubert and Emily surveyed with delight the environs of
the town, situated at the feet of the Pyrenean Alps, that rose, some
in abrupt precipices, and others swelling with woods of cedar, fir, and
cypress, which stretched nearly to their highest summits. The cheerful
green of the beech and mountain-ash was sometimes seen, like a gleam of
light, amidst the dark verdure of the forest; and sometimes a torrent
poured its sparkling flood, high among the woods.
Valancourt's indisposition detained the travellers at Beaujeu several
days, during which interval St. Aubert had observed his disposition and
his talents with the philosophic inquiry so natural to him. He saw
a frank and generous nature, full of ardour, highly susceptible of
whatever is grand and beautiful, but impetuous, wild, and somewhat
romantic. Valancourt had known little of the world. His perceptions were
clear, and his feelings just; his indignation of an unworthy, or his
admiration of a generous action, were expressed in terms of equal
vehemence. St. Aubert sometimes smiled at his warmth, but seldom checked
it, and often repeated to himself, 'This young man has never been at
Paris.'
A sigh sometimes followed this silent ejaculation. He determined
not to leave Valancourt till he should be perfectly recovered; and, as
he was now well enough to travel, though not able to manage his horse,
St. Aubert invited him to accompany him for a few days in the carriage.
This he the more readily did, since he had discovered that Valancourt
was of a family of the same name in Gascony, with whose respectability
he was well acquainted. The latter accepted the offer with great
pleasure, and they again set forward among these romantic wilds about
Rousillon. They travelled leisurely; stopping wherever a scene uncommonly grand
appeared; frequently alighting to walk to an eminence, whither the mules
could not go, from which the prospect opened in greater magnificence;
and often sauntering over hillocks covered with lavender, wild thyme,
juniper, and tamarisc; and under the shades of woods, between those
boles they caught the long mountain-vista, sublime beyond any thing that
Emily had ever imagined.