Sometimes the rustling of birds taking flight, would sound in his ears like the timid frou-frou of a skirt, and Julien, fascinated by the mysterious charm of these indefinite objects, and following the impulse of their mystical suggestions, would fling himself impetuously into the jungle, repeating to him self the words of the "Canticle of Canticles": "I hear the voice of my beloved; behold! she cometh leaping upon the mountains, skipping upon the hills." He would continue to press forward in pursuit of the intangible apparition, until he sank with exhaustion near some stream or fountain.

Under the influence of the fever, which was consuming his brain, he would imagine the trickling water to be the song of a feminine voice.

He would wind his arms around the young saplings, he would tear the berries from the bushes, pressing them against his thirsty lips, and imagining their odoriferous sweetness to be a fond caress from the loved one.
He would return from these expeditions exhausted but not appeased.
Sometimes he would come across Claudet, also returning home from paying his court to Reine Vincart; and the unhappy Julien would scrutinize his rival's countenance, seeking eagerly for some trace of the impressions he had received during the loving interview.

His curiosity was nearly always baffled; for Claudet seemed to have left all his gayety and conversational powers at La Thuiliere.

During their tete-a-tete meals, he hardly spoke at all, maintaining a reserved attitude and a taciturn countenance.