And that, as an irresistible argument, decided her.
Still the cab did not come. Léon was afraid she might go back into the church. At last the cab appeared.
“At all events, go out by the north porch,” cried the beadle, who was left alone on the threshold, “so as to see the Resurrection , the Last Judgment , Paradise , King David , and the Condemned in Hell-Flames .”
“Where to, sir?” asked the coachman.
“Where you like,” said Léon, forcing Emma into the cab.
And the lumbering machine set out. It went down the Rue Grand-Pont, crossed the Place des Arts, the Quai Napoléon, the Pont Neuf, and stopped short before the statue of Pierre Corneille.
“Go on,” cried a voice that came from within.
The cab went on again, and as soon as it reached the Carrefour Lafayette, set off downhill, and entered the station at a gallop.
“No, straight on!” cried the same voice.
The cab came out by the gate, and soon having reached the Cours, trotted quietly beneath the elm-trees. The coachman wiped his brow, put his leather hat between his knees, and drove his carriage beyond the side alley by the meadow to the margin of the waters.
It went along by the river, along the towing-path paved with sharp pebbles, and for a long while in the direction of Oyssel, beyond the isles.
But suddenly it turned with a dash across Quatremares, Sotteville, La Grande-Chausée, the Rue d’Elbeuf, and made its third halt in front of the Jardin des Plantes.