there was room for four to walk abreast, but which had somewhat lost
its dignity by the balusters being used for hanging maize upon.
Presently we came to a door, which the aubergiste knocked sharply with
his knuckles.

There was a sound of footsteps within, and then the door opened. I was
standing before a rather florid man of about fifty, with close-cropped
hair, a brush moustache, and a chin that seemed undecided on the score
of shaving. He wore a flannel shirt open at the throat, and a knitted
worsted _tricot_. This was the captain. He evidently did not like
Sunday clothes. When he settled down here, it was to live at his ease,
like a bachelor who had finished with vanities. But although no one
would have supposed from his dress that he was superior to the people
around him, his manners were those of a gentleman and an officer who
had seen the world elsewhere than at Loubressac. The simple, easy
courtesy with which he showed me his rooms, and pointed his telescope
for me, was all that is worth attaining, as regards the outward polish
of a man. This was so fixed upon him that his long association with
peasants had taken none of it away. The few rooms that he inhabited
were plainly furnished; in others were heaps of wheat, maize and
beans. Passing along a passage I noticed a little altar in a recess,
with a statue of the Virgin decked with roses and wild flowers. '_C'est
le mois de Marie_,' said the captain. He lived with a sister, and she
took care that religion was kept up in the house.

It being the _Fête-Dieu_, preparations were being made in the village
for the procession that was to take place after vespers. Sheets were
spread along the fronts of the houses, with flowers pinned to them,
and _reposoirs_ had been raised in the open air. I did not wait for
the procession, as I expected to be in time for the one at the next