St. Aubert had recovered enough after a night’s rest to continue the journey. Early the next morning, he set out with Emily, Valancourt, and the rest of their party toward Rousillon, hoping they would arrive before nightfall.
The road they followed was even wilder and more romantic than the ones they had already crossed. Yet, unlike the harsh landscapes before, this scenery was softened from time to time by unexpected beauty.
Hidden among the mountains were small wooded valleys filled with fresh green leaves and bright flowers. In other places, peaceful grass-covered meadows opened beneath the cliffs, where sheep and cattle wandered beside clear streams that kept the land forever fresh.
Although the journey was exhausting, St. Aubert did not regret choosing this difficult path. Once again, he often had to leave the carriage, walk along dangerous cliffs, and climb steep, rocky slopes. But every hardship was forgotten when he saw the magnificent views before him.
The beauty of nature filled him with wonder, and the excitement of his younger companions increased his own joy. Their enthusiasm reminded him of his youth, when he had first discovered the overwhelming charm of the natural world.
He especially enjoyed speaking with Valancourt and listening to his sincere thoughts.
The young man’s passionate and simple nature seemed perfectly suited to the wild surroundings. St. Aubert noticed that Valancourt possessed a noble and thoughtful mind, untouched by the corruption of society.
His opinions did not seem borrowed from others. They came from his own reflection rather than from books or fashionable ideas.
He appeared to know almost nothing about the world, because he still believed that people were naturally good. Yet St. Aubert realized that this belief was simply a reflection of Valancourt’s own innocent heart.
As St. Aubert occasionally stopped to examine the wild flowers growing beside the road, he often looked ahead at Emily and Valancourt walking together.
Valancourt, filled with lively happiness, would point out some magnificent part of the landscape to her. Emily would listen carefully, her expression serious and gentle, revealing the depth and purity of her thoughts.
They looked like two lovers who had never left their quiet mountain home. Their isolated life had protected them from the shallow pleasures of society. Their thoughts were as simple and grand as the scenery around them.
They seemed to know no happiness except the happiness created by two sincere and loving hearts.
St. Aubert smiled at the beautiful picture his imagination created, but he also sighed.
He regretted that true simplicity and natural feelings had become so rare that people considered them unrealistic dreams.
“The world,” he thought, “often mocks a kind of love it rarely experiences. The distractions and ambitions of society disturb the mind, weaken good taste, and damage the heart. Love cannot survive in a soul that has lost the quiet dignity of innocence.”
“True virtue and true taste are closely connected. Virtue is simply good taste put into action, and the finest feelings of both are necessary for genuine love.”
“How can we expect to find such love in crowded cities, where selfishness, pleasure-seeking, and dishonesty have replaced tenderness, simplicity, and truth?”
Around noon, they reached a steep and dangerous part of the road. Everyone left the carriage and continued on foot.
The path climbed through a forest-covered slope. Instead of following the road, they entered the cool shade beneath the trees.
The air was fresh and damp with morning moisture. The grass beneath their feet shone with bright green life. The scent of flowers mixed with the fragrance of herbs such as thyme and lavender. Above them stood enormous pines, beeches, and chestnut trees, creating a peaceful and magnificent shelter.
Sometimes the thick leaves completely blocked their view of the outside world. At other times, small openings revealed distant glimpses of the mountains, allowing their imagination to create scenes even more beautiful than anything their eyes could fully see.
They often stopped, lost in these pleasant dreams.
The quiet moments between Emily and Valancourt became more frequent than before.
Valancourt, who usually spoke with cheerful energy, would suddenly become silent and thoughtful. Sometimes a gentle sadness appeared in his smile, and Emily understood the feeling behind it because her own heart was beginning to share his emotions.
St. Aubert enjoyed the cool forest shade, and they continued walking slowly beneath the trees. Following what they believed was the direction of the road, they wandered farther and farther until they realized they had completely lost their way.
They had stayed near the edge of the cliff because of the beautiful views, while the actual road had turned away above them.
Valancourt called loudly for Michael.
Only his own voice answered, echoing among the rocks.
He tried several times to find the road again, but every attempt failed.
Then they noticed a small shepherd’s cottage between the trees in the distance.
Valancourt immediately hurried toward it to ask for help.
When he arrived, he found only two small children playing outside on the grass.
He looked inside the cottage, but no one was there.
The older child told him that their father had gone with the sheep and their mother had gone down into the valley but would return soon.
While Valancourt stood wondering what to do next, he suddenly heard Michael’s powerful voice shouting from the cliffs above.
The sound echoed loudly through the mountains.
Valancourt immediately answered and followed the direction of the voice, forcing his way through thick bushes and steep ground.
After struggling across sharp rocks and tangled plants, he finally reached Michael.
He managed to make the man stop shouting and listen.
The road was far from where St. Aubert and Emily were waiting. The carriage could not easily return to the entrance of the forest, and St. Aubert was too tired to climb the long, difficult path back.
Valancourt decided he needed to find an easier way upward.
Meanwhile, St. Aubert and Emily approached the cottage and sat down on a simple wooden bench between two large pine trees.
They rested there while waiting for Valancourt to return.
The older child stopped playing and watched the strangers with curiosity. The younger child continued running around happily, trying to persuade his brother to join him.
St. Aubert looked at the children with affection. Their innocent happiness reminded him of his own sons, who had died when they were about the same age, and he thought sadly of their mother, whom he had also lost.
His expression became distant and sorrowful.
Emily noticed his sadness immediately.
To comfort him, she began singing one of the simple, cheerful songs he loved. She sang with such sweetness that even the sadness of the moment seemed softened.
St. Aubert smiled through his tears. He took her hand, pressed it warmly, and tried to push away the painful memories that had returned.
While Emily was singing, Valancourt approached quietly. He did not want to interrupt her, so he stopped nearby and listened.
When the song ended, he joined them.
“I have found Michael,” he said, “and I have also found a way that should allow us to climb back to the carriage.”
He pointed toward the wooded slopes above.
St. Aubert looked at the steep path with concern. He was already tired, and the climb appeared difficult.
However, he believed it would still be easier than returning by the broken mountain road.
Before they continued, Emily, always concerned about her father’s comfort, suggested that he rest and eat something first.
Valancourt immediately went back to the carriage to bring their food.
When he returned, he suggested moving a little higher up the mountain to a place where the trees opened into a wide and magnificent view.
They were preparing to leave when they suddenly saw a young woman approach the children.
She hugged them and began crying.
The travellers stopped, moved by her sadness.
The woman picked up the younger child, quickly wiped away her tears when she noticed the strangers, and entered the cottage.
St. Aubert asked what had happened.
The woman explained that her husband was a shepherd who spent the summer months in the mountains watching over the sheep he cared for.
The previous night, they had lost almost everything they owned.
A group of gypsies who had troubled the area for some time had stolen several sheep belonging to his master.
“Jacques had saved money and bought a few sheep of his own,” the woman said sadly.
“Now he must repay his master for those that were stolen. And the worst part is that his master is a harsh man. When he learns what happened, he may never trust Jacques with his flock again.”
“What will happen to our children then?”
Her innocent face and simple manner convinced St. Aubert that she was telling the truth.
Valancourt was equally certain.
“How much were the stolen sheep worth?” he asked eagerly.
When he heard the amount, his expression changed with disappointment.
St. Aubert gave the woman some money.
Emily also offered a small amount from her purse.
Then they began walking toward the cliff.
But Valancourt remained behind.
The shepherd’s wife was crying with gratitude and surprise.
Valancourt asked how much more money was needed to replace the stolen sheep.
The answer was only a little less than all the money he carried.
He stood there struggling with himself.
“This money would make this poor family completely happy,” he thought.
“It is within my power to save them from misery.”
“But what will happen to me? How will I reach home with almost nothing left?”
For a moment, he hesitated.
He wanted deeply to give them everything, yet he worried about his own journey ahead.
Then the shepherd himself appeared.
His children ran to greet him.
He carried one child in his arms while the other held onto his coat.
His slow steps and hopeless expression touched Valancourt immediately.
Without another thought, Valancourt dropped all his money into the shepherd’s hands, keeping only a few coins for himself.
Then he ran after St. Aubert and Emily.
At that moment, Valancourt felt happier than he had ever felt before.
His heart seemed lighter.
Everything around him appeared more beautiful and meaningful.
St. Aubert noticed the unusual happiness shining on his face.
“What has made you so joyful?” he asked.
“Oh, what a beautiful day!” Valancourt replied.
“How brightly the sun shines! How pure the air feels! What wonderful scenery surrounds us!”
“It truly is wonderful,” said St. Aubert, who understood the reason behind Valancourt’s happiness.
“What a pity that wealthy people, who can command every comfort, still allow themselves to live in sadness because they remain trapped in selfishness.”
“As for you, my young friend, may the sun always shine as brightly upon your life as it does today. May your own actions always give you the happiness that comes from kindness and reason.”
Valancourt was deeply touched by the praise and could only answer with a grateful smile.
They continued climbing through the woods until they reached the shaded summit Valancourt had described.
The entire group stopped in amazement.
Behind them, the mountain rose like a massive stone wall before breaking into towering cliffs.
The grey rocks contrasted beautifully with the bright plants and wild flowers growing from their cracks.
Dark pines and cedars crowned the heights above.
Below them, the steep slopes fell suddenly into the valley. Alpine shrubs covered the edges, and farther down they could see the tops of chestnut forests.
Among the trees stood the shepherd’s cottage they had just left, with a thin column of blue smoke rising into the sky.
All around them stretched the majestic peaks of the Pyrenees.
Some mountains displayed enormous marble cliffs whose appearance changed constantly as sunlight moved across their surfaces.
Others rose even higher, showing only snowy peaks above forests of pine, larch, and oak.
This valley was one of the narrow passages leading from the Pyrenees into Rousillon.
Its green fields and cultivated beauty created a striking contrast with the wild grandeur surrounding it.
Through an opening between the mountains, they could see the distant plains of Rousillon covered in blue mist, reaching toward the waters of the Mediterranean.
On a far-off shore stood a lonely lighthouse.
Above it circled flights of sea birds.
Occasionally, a white sail appeared in the sunlight, moving slowly toward the lighthouse.
Sometimes another sail was so distant that it seemed only a mark dividing the sky from the sea.
On the opposite side of the valley, a rocky passage led toward Gascony.
There was no sign of human cultivation there.
The granite cliffs rose sharply from the ground and reached toward the clouds.
No forests softened them. No homes appeared among them.
Only occasionally did a great larch tree cast its shadow over the cliffs, or a cross stood on a dangerous height, marking the fate of someone who had traveled there before.
The place looked like a hiding place for criminals.
Emily looked down and almost imagined bandits emerging from hidden caves.
Then she noticed something even more frightening.
A gallows stood on a rocky point near the entrance of the pass, directly above one of the crosses she had seen.
Together, these signs told a terrible story.
Emily did not mention them to St. Aubert, but they darkened her mood.
She wished to continue quickly so they could reach Rousillon before nightfall.
However, St. Aubert needed rest and food.
They sat on the dry grass, opened their basket of provisions, and enjoyed a simple meal beneath the cool mountain air.
After resting in the peaceful surroundings, St. Aubert recovered his strength.
Valancourt was so delighted by the scenery and the conversation that he seemed to have forgotten they still had a destination ahead.
When they finished eating, they looked back one last time at the magnificent view before continuing their journey.
At last, they reached the carriage.
Emily entered beside her father, but Valancourt wished to enjoy the landscape more fully.
He released his dogs and ran ahead along the road.
Often he left the path to climb to higher points where he could see farther.
Because the carriage moved slowly, he always had enough time to return.
Whenever he discovered a particularly beautiful scene, he hurried back to tell St. Aubert.
Although St. Aubert was too tired to walk, he sometimes asked the carriage to stop so Emily could climb nearby cliffs and see the views for herself.
By evening, they descended from the lower Alps that surrounded Rousillon like a magnificent wall, leaving only the eastern side open toward the Mediterranean.
Once again, the landscape changed.
The wild mountains gave way to cultivated beauty.
The fertile plains were filled with rich colors created by a warm climate and hardworking people.
Orange and lemon groves filled the air with fragrance, their ripe fruits shining among the leaves.
Vast vineyards stretched across the slopes.
Beyond them were forests, fields, towns, and villages reaching toward the sea.
Many distant sails glittered on the water.
The entire scene was covered in the purple glow of evening.
Together with the surrounding mountains, it looked like a perfect combination of beauty and grandeur — “beauty sleeping in the lap of horror.”
Finally, the travellers reached the plains.
They continued through paths bordered by flowering myrtle and pomegranate bushes until they arrived at the town of Arles, where they planned to spend the night.
Their accommodation was simple but comfortable.
After such a day of hardship and wonder, they might have enjoyed a completely happy evening.
But one thought saddened them all.
They were about to separate.
St. Aubert planned to continue the next day toward the Mediterranean coast and then travel along the shore into Languedoc.
Valancourt, now almost fully recovered, no longer had a reason to remain with his new friends.
He decided he must leave them there.
St. Aubert, who had grown very fond of him, invited him to continue the journey together.
But he did not insist.
Valancourt had enough strength to refuse the temptation, because he wanted to prove that he deserved St. Aubert’s kindness.
The next morning, they would part ways.
St. Aubert would continue toward Languedoc.
Valancourt would return home through the mountains, discovering new landscapes along the way.
That evening, Valancourt was often silent and thoughtful.
St. Aubert treated him with affection, though his manner was serious.
Emily also appeared quiet, though she frequently tried to hide her sadness behind cheerful words.
After one of the most sorrowful evenings they had shared, they finally separated for the night.