Publisher's Synopsis
The song was over. The words were David's; the air, one of the countryside. The companyabout the inn table applauded heartily, for the young poet paid for the wine. Only the notary, M.Papineau, shook his head a little at the lines, for he was a man of books, and he had not drunk withthe rest.David went out into the village street, where the night air drove the wine vapour from his head.And then he remembered that he and Yvonne had quarrelled that day, and that he had resolved toleave his home that night to seek fame and honour in the great world outside."When my poems are on every man's tongue," he told himself, in a fine exhilaration, "she will, perhaps, think of the hard words she spoke this day."Except the roisterers in the tavern, the village folk were abed. David crept softly into his roomin the shed of his father's cottage and made a bundle of his small store of clothing. With this upon astaff, he set his face outward upon the road that ran from Vernoy.He passed his father's herd of sheep, huddled in their nightly pen-the sheep he herded daily, leaving them to scatter while he wrote verses on scraps of paper. He saw a light yet shining inYvonne's window, and a weakness shook his purpose of a sudden. Perhaps that light meant that sherued, sleepless, her anger, and that morning might-But, no! His decision was made. Vernoy was noplace for him. Not one soul there could share his thoughts. Out along that road lay his fate and hisfuture.Three leagues across the dim, moonlit champaign ran the road, straight as a ploughman'sfurrow. It was believed in the village that the road ran to Paris, at least; and this name the poetwhispered often to himself as he walked. Never so far from Vernoy had David travelled before.4THE LEFT BRANCHThree leagues, then, the road ran, and turned into a puzzle. It joined with another and a larger road at rightangles. David stood, uncertain, for a while, and then took the road to the left.Upon this more important highway were, imprinted in the dust, wheel tracks left by the recentpassage of some vehicle. Some half an hour later these traces were verified by the sight of aponderous carriage mired in a little brook at the bottom of a steep hill. The driver and postilionswere shouting and tugging at the horses' bridles. On the road at one side stood a huge, black-clothedman and a slender lady wrapped in a long, light cloak.David saw the lack of skill in the efforts of the servants. He quietly assumed control of thework. He directed the outriders to cease their clamour at the horses and to exercise their strengthupon the wheels. The driver alone urged the animals with his familiar voice; David himself heaved apowerful shoulder at the rear of the carriage, and with one harmonious tug the great vehicle rolledup on solid ground. The outriders climbed to their places.
