Through the night's oblivion Gaston felt several times how Belle changed the bandages on the wound, then gave him nettle decoction to stop the bleeding. By morning he was sleeping almost soundly, and when the sun rose high he awoke to the sound of rattling dishes and something scorching in a frying pan.

Belle was making breakfast, and Gaston was trying to remember something important that he hadn't had time to think about before going to sleep.

Oh, right.

Belle had said she wanted to see the sea, and somehow that thought was becoming more and more interesting. In fact, Belle had some very interesting dreams. He didn't understand everything about her dreams, like true love, but he had thought about the sea. When he was a boy.

Once, when he was still a child, Gaston went to a street performance, and there was something about a traveler or a sailor. He didn't remember that. But he remembered his admiration for the fact that they told him how wooden ships with white wings and sails floated on a vast expanse of water. Even the toy performance figures looked amazing.

There was fighting on those ships, cannons firing, and that sea all around.

Gaston really wanted to see it then.

The man tried to sit up higher so he could dream more comfortably, but it hurt too much. So he turned a little and closed his eyes.

So... Come to think of it... in the market, sometimes there were "sea" fish, as the sellers praised them. So the sea wasn't that far away from them, so the fish wouldn't have had time to spoil. Then it wouldn't have been brought to them.

That's right. He and Belle can go to whichever town has a sea and look at it. Now we have to find out which one.

"Belle! Belle!" he called out.

There was a clatter of dishes and a slam of the door as the girl ran into the bedroom. Her face was frightened.

"What's the matter? Does it hurt? Is it bleeding?"

Gaston had no time to answer, and Belle sat down beside him, groping his side.

"No, Belle, I'm fine. It's all right, calm down!" He took her hand, holding her close to him.

"Then what's wrong? I've got to make you breakfast."

She was in such a hurry, and so confusing him with her questions, that already shaky thoughts flew out of his mind. But Gaston was seized with a kind of almost hunting excitement, a feeling that he had discovered a kind of new hunting ground, something he had not seen or encountered before. Only within himself. That the sea was very near and could be looked at with Belle filled his soul with a kind of pleasant anticipation.

"Please," he asked. "Talk to me for a minute."

"About what?" The wife sighed.

"Belle, what town is there near us where there is a sea?"

"Where is the sea?" She thought for a moment. "Well, Toulon, why?"

Gaston whistled with admiration. His wife had so quickly answered a question to which he did not know the answer at all.

"Well, how far is it from our town to this Toulon?"

"Three days on horseback."

"You're so smart, Belle," said Gaston, shocked. But the girl only frowned:

"I'm not smart, a smart person manages their life, and mine is chaos. And this..." she waved her hand uncertainly. "It's a head full of unnecessary in reality knowledge."

"It's not unnecessary knowledge. Look, Belle, look what I've thought up," Gaston got worried for some reason and couldn't find the right words. He clenched the girl's palm so that she would not leave before time. "We can go to Toulon and look at the sea."

"For what?" Belle asked, and Gaston almost screamed with despair at the hateful question. But he restrained himself.

"For nothing. Just to look at the sea."

Belle released her hand and pressed her palms to her temples:

"Do I understand correctly that you propose to leave the farm for a week, to spend money just to look at the water?"

"Not at the water, Belle! At the sea!"

"It's the same thing. If you want to look at the water, go and look at our river, there's a pond too..."

"The one where the pigs swim?"

"That's the one." She got up. "You're trying to kill me. I haven't slept all night. I've got meat on fire and laundry to do! I have to change your bandages, then go to my father's and the market. And you're filling my head with your meaningless talk."

"I'm sorry." Gaston leaned back against the pillows, but he didn't give up his idea.

Belle was back in the kitchen, rattling the dishes fiercely. Why was she so angry? To keep from being bored, Gaston twisted around and reached for the first book in the stack.

It was a book he'd picked up himself, and it had pictures. He hadn't looked at them then, but there was nothing to do now anyway...

The book was probably about distant lands. Gaston looked at the tall spires of palaces, mysterious people with dark skin, who rode on strange creatures with humps on their backs, like on a horse. Did such a thing really exist in this world?

The man reached for the next book. His side stung, but the book was in his hands. It was a book the shopkeeper had said Belle took quite pictures were small and black-and-white, but something unknown in the pages beckoned with their depth. Gaston flipped to the end and saw pictures where first the young man drank something from a vial, and then the girl put a dagger to her chest. True love is the one for which one is not afraid to die!

Amazed, he carefully put the book aside as if it were a living thing.

The door opened and Belle came in with a tray.

"Come on, eat," she placed the tray on the table by the bed. "What's this?" Gaston followed her gaze and saw a red stain on the white bandage.

"The wound had opened again! Did you get up?!"

"I was just reaching for books, don't you worry, Belle, I..."

"You did it out of spite me! You're trying to kill me!"

He kept silent - it was better not to argue, especially if it was his own fault.

Belle silently brought clean bandages and herbs. Gaston kept silent, though it hurt so badly that his eyes grew dark as Belle changed the bandages.

Suddenly, she turned around and looked him in the face. "Don't bear it, scream if you want to," the girl ran a cool hand over his cheek. "Just a little more."

"Thank you, Belle." But when the bandaging was over, Gaston began to think again about how they would go to the sea. He had almost finished his breakfast, but he couldn't think of a way to make conversation without making Belle angry again.

"Belle, what kind of farm are we going to leave behind? We're not farmers."

"What?"

"Nothing will happen if we go to see the sea for a week."

She sighed and started to get worry again:

"We're not peasants, but I planted zucchini and carrots. You eat them with great appetite, by the way! And the days ahead are hot. And I have to look after my father."

"I'll ask Lefou to water the garden and look after your old man."

"How simple you make it! Doesn't Lefou have his own business, except watering our carrots?"

"Of course not," said Gaston, surprised."What his own business could he have if I asked him to?"

"I don't know," Belle hesitated. "He's always making fun of my father, and now my father's not quite well. He'll blab it all over town.

"No, he won't! I'll warn him!"

Belle fidgeted with her apron. Suddenly her face cleared up, almost as it had before.

"Well, to hell with you. When you're well enough, we'll go to Toulon."