His loneliness was in sympathy with the forest, which seemed contemporary with the Sleeping Beauty of the wood, the verdant walls of which were to separate him forever from the world of cities.

Henceforth, he could be himself, could move freely, dress as he wished, or give way to his dreaming, without fearing to encounter the ironical looks of idle and wondering neighbors.

For the first time since his departure from his former home, he experienced a feeling of joy and serenity; the influence of the surroundings, so much in harmony with his wishes, unlocked his tongue, and made him communicative.
He made up his mind to speak to the guide, who was smoking at his side and whipping his horse.
"Are we far from Vivey now ?" "That depends, Monsieur--as the crow flies, the distance is not very great, and if we could go by the roads, we should be there in one short hour.

Unfortunately, on turning by the Allofroy farm, we shall have to leave the highroad and take the cross path; and then--my gracious! we shall plunge into the ditch down there, and into perdition." "You told me that you were well acquainted with the roads!" "I know them, and I do not know them.

When it comes to these crossroads, one is sure of nothing.