which are several large houses. By an opening between the roofs can be
seen the height on which stands the chateau of Arcis with its park and
gardens, its outer walls and trees which overhand the river above the
bridges, and the rather scanty pastures of the left bank.

The sound of the water as it runs through the courses above the dam,
the music of the wheels, from which the churned water falls back into
the basin in sparkling cascades, animate the rue du Pont, contrasting
in this respect with the tranquillity of the river flowing downward
between the garden of Monsieur Grevin, whose house is at one angle of
the bridge on the left bank, and the port where the boats and barges
discharge their merchandise before a line of poor but picturesque
houses.

Nothing can better express provincial life than the deep silence that
envelops the little town and reigns in its busiest region. It is easy
to imagine, therefore, how disquieting the presence of a stranger, if
he only spends half a day there, may be to the inhabitants; with what
attention faces protrude from the windows to observe him, and also the
condition of espial in which all the residents of the little place
stand to each other. Life has there become so conventional that,
except on Sundays and fete-days, a stranger meets no one either on the
boulevards or the Avenue of Sighs, not even, in fact, upon the
streets.

It will now be readily understood why the ground-floor of the
Beauvisage house is on a level with the street and square. The square
serves as its courtyard. Sitting at his window the eyes of the late
hosier could take in the whole of the Place de l'Eglise, the two
squares of the bridge, and the road to Sezanne. He could see the