of France, bearing equal resemblance to the style of the Catalans and of the Andalusians; while La Carconte displayed the charming fashion prevalent among the females of Arles, a mode of attire borrowed equally from Greece and Arabia. But, by degrees, watch-chains, necklaces, many-colored scarfs, embroidered bodices, velvet vests, elegantly-worked stockings, striped gaiters, and silver buckles for the shoes, all disappeared; and Gaspard Caderousse, unable to appear abroad in his pristine splendor, had given up any further participation in these pomps and vanities, both for himself or wife, although a bitter feeling of envious discontent filled his mind as the sound of mirth and merry music from the joyous revelers reached even the miserable hostelry to which he still clung, more for the shelter than the profit it afforded.
On the present day, Caderousse was, as usual, at his place of observation before the door, his eyes glancing listlessly from a piece of closely-shaven grass on which some fowls were pecking, to the deserted road, the two extremities of which pointed respectively north and south, when he was roused by the shrill voice of his wife. He proceeded, grumbling, to the floor above — taking care to set the entrance-door wide open, as it were, to invite travelers not to pass by.
At the moment Caderousse went in, the road on which he so eagerly strained his sight was void and lonely as a desert at midday. There it lay stretched out, white and endless, and one could understand that no traveler, free to choose his own time, would venture into that frightful Sahara, with its sides bordered by meagre trees.
Nevertheless, had Caderousse but retained his post a few minutes longer, he might have seen approaching from the direction of Bellegarde a man and horse, between whom the kindest and most amiable understanding appeared to exist. The horse was of Hungarian breed, and ambled along with that easy pace peculiar to that race of animals. His rider was a priest, dressed in black, and wearing a three-cornered hat; and, spite of the ardent rays of a noonday sun, the pair came on at a tolerably smart trot.
Having arrived before the door, the horse stopped, but whether for his own pleasure or that of his rider would have been difficult to say. In either case, the priest, dismounting, led his steed by the bridle, which he prepared to hitch to a handle that projected from a half-fallen door; then with a red cotton handkerchief from his pocket he wiped away the perspiration that streamed from his brow, and, advancing to the door, struck thrice with the end of his iron-shod stick.
At this unusual sound, a huge black dog came rushing to meet the daring assailant of his ordinarily tranquil abode, snarling and displaying his sharp white teeth with a determined hostility that abundantly
