Publisher's Synopsis
The song was over. The words were David's; the air, one of the countryside. Thecompany about the inn table applauded heartily, for the young poet paid for the wine. Onlythe notary, M. Papineau, shook his head a little at the lines, for he was a man of books, andhe had not drunk with the rest.David went out into the village street, where the night air drove the wine vapour fromhis head. And then he remembered that he and Yvonne had quarrelled that day, and that hehad resolved to leave his home that night to seek fame and honour in the great worldoutside."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 hisroom in the shed of his father's cottage and made a bundle of his small store of clothing.With this upon a staff, 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 herdeddaily, leaving them to scatter while he wrote verses on scraps of paper. He saw a light yetshining in Yvonne's window, and a weakness shook his purpose of a sudden. Perhaps thatlight meant that she rued, sleepless, her anger, and that morning might-But, no! Hisdecision was made. Vernoy was no place for him. Not one soul there could share histhoughts. Out along that road lay his fate and his future.Three leagues across the dim, moonlit champaign ran the road, straight as aploughman's furrow. It was believed in the village that the road ran to Paris, at least; andthis name the poet whispered often to himself as he walked. Never so far from Vernoy hadDavid travelled before.THE LEFT BRANCHThree leagues, then, the road ran, and turned into a puzzle. It joined with another and alarger road at right angles. David stood, uncertain, for a while, and then took the road to theleft.Upon this more important highway were, imprinted in the dust, wheel tracks left by therecent passage of some vehicle. Some half an hour later these traces were verified by thesight of a ponderous carriage mired in a little brook at the bottom of a steep hill. The driverand postilions were shouting and tugging at the horses' bridles. On the road at one sidestood a huge, black-clothed man 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 ofthe work. He directed the outriders to cease their clamour at the horses and to exercisetheir strength upon the wheels. The driver alone urged the animals with his familiar voice;David himself heaved a powerful shoulder at the rear of the carriage, and with oneharmonious tug the great vehicle rolled up on solid ground. The outriders climbed to theirplaces.