He continued his remarks on this subject until the carriage approached
Sairmeuse.

Though but little given to sentiment, he was really affected by the
sight of the country in which he was born--where he had played as a
child, and of which he had heard nothing since the death of his aunt.

Everything was changed: still the outlines of the landscape remained the
same; the valley of the Oiselle was as bright and laughing as in days
gone by.

"I recognize it!" he exclaimed, with a delight that made him forget
politics. "I recognize it!"

Soon the changes became more striking.

The carriage entered Sairmeuse, and rattled over the stones of the only
street in the village.

This street, in former years, had been unpaved, and had always been
rendered impassable by wet weather.

"Ah, ha!" murmured the duke, "this is an improvement!"

It was not long before he noticed others. The dilapidated, thatched
hovels had given place to pretty and comfortable white cottages with
green blinds, and a vine hanging gracefully over the door.

As the carriage passed the public square in front of the church, Martial
observed the groups of peasants who were still talking there.