ts further slope was
a meadow of some two hundred acres, the verdure of which contrasted with
the hideous aspect of the desolate plateau.

"My son and I cut that ditch you see down there marked by the tall
grasses," said Farrabesche; "it joins the one which bounds your forest.
On this side the estate is bounded by a desert, for the nearest village
is three miles distant."

Veronique turned rapidly to the dismal plain, followed by her guide.
She leaped her horse across the ditch and rode at full gallop across the
drear expanse, seeming to take a savage pleasure in contemplating that
vast image of desolation. Farrabesche was right. No power, no will could
put to any use whatever that soil which resounded under the horses'
feet as though it were hollow. This effect was produced by the natural
porousness of the clay; but there were fissures also through which the
water flowed away, no doubt to some distant source.

"There are many souls like this," thought Veronique, stopping her horse
after she had ridden at full speed for fifteen or twenty minutes. She
remained motionless and thoughtful in the midst of this desert, where
there was neither animal nor insect life and where the birds never flew.
The plain of Montegnac was at least pebbly or sandy; on it were places
where a few inches of soil did give a foothold for the roots of certain
plains; but here the ungrateful chalk, neither stone nor earth, repelled
even the eye, which was forced to turn for relief to the blue of the
ether.

After examining the bounds of her forest and the meadows purchased by
her husband, Veronique returned toward the outlet of the Gabou, but
slowly. She then saw Farrabesche gazing into a sort of ditch which
looked like one a speculator might have dug into this desolate corner of
the earth expecting Nature to give up some hidden treasure.

"What is the matter?" asked Veronique, noticing on that manly face an
expression of deep sadness.

"Madame, I owe my life to that ditch; or rather, to speak more
correctly, I owe to it time for repentance, time to redeem my sins in
the eyes of men."

This method of explaining life so affected Madame Graslin that she
stopped her horse on the brink of the ditch.

"I was hiding there, madame. The ground is so resonant that when my ear
was against it I could hear the horses of the gendarmerie, or even the
footsteps of the soldiers, which are always peculiar. That gave me time
to escape up the Gabou to a plac