its ships at anchor by the side of the quay, and its citadel built on the
top of a hill.

A strong smell of the sea came from the offing, mingled with the resinous
smell of pine logs, and of the large nets with great pieces of sea-weed
clinging to them, which were drying in the sun.

Why had Monsieur d'Etchegorry, who did not like the country, who was of a
sociable rather than of a solitary nature, for he never walked alone, but
kept step with the retired officers who lived there, and frequently
played game after game at _piquet_ at the _café_, when he was in town,
buried himself in such a solitary place, by the side of a dusty road at
Boucau, a village close to the town, where on Sundays the soldiers took
off their tunics, and sat in their shirt sleeves in the public-houses,
drank the thin wine of the country, and teased the girls.

What secret reasons had he for selling the mansion which he had possessed
at Bayonne, close to the bishop's palace, and condemning his daughter, a
girl of nineteen, to such a dull, listless, solitary life; counting the
minutes far from everybody, as if she had been a nun, no one knew, but
most people said that he had lost immense sums in gambling, and had
wasted his fortune and ruined his credit in doubtful speculations. They
wondered whether he still regretted the tender, sweet woman whom he had
lost, who died one evening, after years of suffering, like a church lamp
whose oil has been consumed to the last drop. Was he seeking for perfect
oblivion, for that soothing repose in nature, in which a man becomes
enervated, and which envelopes him like a moist, warm cloth? How could he
be satisfied with such an existence? With the bad cooking, and the
careless, untidy ways of a char-woman, and with the shabby clothes, that
were discolored by use!