as far as the town where we were to separate. We soon found what we
sought.

Before daylight we were off, travelling in silence through the winding
defiles of Savoy, which at Pont-de-Beauvoisin open into the monotonous
and stony plains of Dauphiny. At every stage we got down and went to
the first carriage to inquire about the poor invalid. Alas! every turn
of the carriage-wheel which took her further from that spring of life
which she had found in Savoy seemed to rob her of her bloom, and to
bring back the look of languor and the slow fever which had struck me
as being the beauty of death the first time I saw her. As the time for
our leaving her drew near, she was visibly oppressed with grief.
Between La-Tour-du-Pin and Lyons, we got into her carriage for a few
leagues to try and cheer her. I begged her to sing the ballad of Auld
Robin Gray for my friend; she did so, to please me, but at the second
verse, which relates the parting of the two lovers the analogy between
our situation and the hopeless sadness of the ballad, as she sung it,
struck her so forcibly that she burst into tears. She took up a black
shawl that she wore that day, and threw it as a veil over her face, and
I saw her sobbing a long while beneath the shawl. At the last stage she
fell into a fainting fit, which lasted till we reached the hotel where
we were to get down at Lyons. With the assistance of her maid, we
carried her upstairs, and laid her on her bed. In the evening she
rallied, and the next day we pursued our journey towards Macon.




XLVI.