Chapter 11. Let Loose

           

           Alate,dullautumnnightwasclosinginupontheriverSaone.Thestream,likeasulliedlooking-glassinagloomyplace,reflectedthecloudsheavily;andthelowbanksleanedoverhereandthere,asiftheywerehalfcurious,andhalfafraid,toseetheirdarkeningpicturesinthewater.TheflatexpanseofcountryaboutChalonslayalongheavystreak,occasionallymadealittleraggedbyarowofpoplartreesagainstthewrathfulsunset.OnthebanksoftheriverSaoneitwaswet,depressing,solitary;andthenightdeepenedfast.

           OnemanslowlymovingontowardsChalonswastheonlyvisiblefigureinthelandscape.Cainmighthavelookedaslonelyandavoided.Withanoldsheepskinknapsackathisback,andarough,unbarkedstickcutoutofsomewoodinhishand;miry,footsore,hisshoesandgaiterstroddenout,hishairandbearduntrimmed;thecloakhecarriedoverhisshoulder,andtheclotheshewore,soddenwithwet;limpingalonginpainanddifficulty;helookedasifthecloudswerehurryingfromhim,asifthewailofthewindandtheshudderingofthegrassweredirectedagainsthim,asifthelowmysteriousplashingofthewatermurmuredathim,asifthefitfulautumnnightweredisturbedbyhim.

           Heglancedhere,andheglancedthere,sullenlybutshrinkingly;andsometimesstoppedandturnedabout,andlookedallroundhim.Thenhelimpedonagain,toilingandmuttering.

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