forced and rapid, like that of a mountaineer when he has reached
an altitude where the air has become less charged with oxygen.
They were also unconscious that their voices were thin and feeble;
either they must themselves have become rather deaf, or it was evident
that the air had become less capable of transmitting sound.

The weather, which on the previous evening had been very foggy,
had entirely changed. The sky had assumed a singular tint, and was
soon covered with lowering clouds that completely hid the sun.
There were, indeed, all the signs of a coming storm, but the vapor,
on account of the insufficient condensation, failed to fall.

The sea appeared quite deserted, a most unusual circumstance along this coast,
and not a sail nor a trail of smoke broke the gray monotony of water and sky.
The limits of the horizon, too, had become much circumscribed.
On land, as well as on sea, the remote distance had completely disappeared,
and it seemed as though the globe had assumed a more decided convexity.

At the pace at which they were walking, it was very evident that the captain
and his attendant would not take long to accomplish the three miles that lay
between the gourbi and the place of rendezvous. They did not exchange a word,
but each was conscious of an unusual buoyancy, which appeared to lift up their
bodies and give as it were, wings to their feet. If Ben Zoof had expressed
his sensations in words, he would have said that he felt "up to anything,"
and he had even forgotten to taste so much as a crust of bread, a lapse
of memory of which the worthy soldier was rarely guilty.

As these thoughts were crossing his mind, a harsh bark was heard to
the left of the footpath, and a jackal was seen emerging from a large
grove of lentisks. Regarding the two wayfarers with manifest uneasiness,