oreign traveller.

I thus wandered through the long and picturesque gorges of Bugey, and
crossed the Rhone at the foot of the rock of Pierre-Chatel. The
narrowed river eternally rushes past the base of this rock, with a
current wearing as the grindstone and cutting as the knife, as if to
undermine and overthrow the state-prison, whose gloomy shadow saddens
its waters. I slowly ascended the Mont du Chat by the paths of the
chamois-hunters; arrived at its summit, I perceived stretched out
before me in the distance the valleys of Aix, Chambery, and Annecy; and
at my feet the lake, dappled with rosy tints by the floating rays of
the setting sun. One single image filled for me the immensity of this
horizon; it rose from the chalets where we had met; from the doctor's
garden, the pointed slate roof of whose house I could recognize above
the smoke of the town; from the fig-trees of the little castle of
Bon-Port at the bottom of the opposite creek; from the chestnut-trees
on the hill of Tresserves; from the woods of St. Innocent; from the
island of Chatillon; from the boats which were returning to their
moorings, from all this earth, from all this sky, from all these waves.
I fell on my knees before this horizon filled with one image. I spread
out my arms and folded them again, as if I could have embraced her
spirit by clasping the air which, had swept over these scenes of our
happiness, over all the traces of her footsteps.

I then sat down behind a rock which screened me even from the sight of
the goatherds, as they passed along the path. There I remained, sunk in
contemplation, and reveling in remembrances, till the sun was almost
dipping behind the snow-clad tops of Nivolex. I did not wish to cross
the lake, or enter the town by daylight, as the homeliness of my dress,
the scantiness of my purse, and the frugality of life to which I was
constrained, in order to live some months near Julie, would have seemed
strange to the inmates of the old doctor's house. They formed too great
a contrast with my elegance in dress and habits of life during the
preceding season. I should have made those blush whom I had accosted in
the streets, in the garb of one who had not even the means of locating
himself in a decent hotel in this abode of luxury. I had, therefore,
resolved to slip by night into the humble suburb, bordering a rivulet
which runs through the orchards below the town.

I knew there a poor young serving girl, called Fanchet