Vayenne

Summary

A long, straight road, no hedge or ditch separating it from the fields on either side, but at intervals of fifty yards or so trees in pairs; tall, thin trees, but heavy-headed and with foliage spread out fussily near the ground, all bent forward in one direction, and looking for all the world like ancient dames with their petticoats held out of the mud as they struggled wearily homeward against a strong wind. In its season this road could be muddy, as many a traveller knew, the fierce storms which raged across the low country making it almost impassable for days together in winter-time. To-day the ancient diligence which traversed it at an even, jog-trot pace only left a long cloud of dust in its wake; and the driver, an old man who had driven along this road at regular intervals for more years than he could count, who possibly knew the exact number of trees which lined it, sat hunched upon his seat and had nothing to do. Perhaps he slept, for the horses knew the way well enough to have performed the journey without him. Earlier in the day there had been half a dozen passengers, but of these only one remained, and he had found the driver so taciturn, and his patois so difficult to understand when he did speak, that he had given up all attempt at conversation. He was weary of the long journey, and dozed whenever the jolting of the somewhat crazy vehicle would allow him to do so.