far from myself also, for I had
become a kind of wandering being, without thought or consciousness,
far from any road, of which I was not even thinking, for as night came
on, I found that I had lost my way.

The shades of night were falling onto the earth like a shower of
darkness, and I saw nothing before me but the mountains, in the far
distance. Presently, I saw some tents in the valley, into which I
descended, and tried to make the first Arab I met understand in which
direction I wanted to go. I do not know whether he understood me, but
he gave me a long answer, which I did not in the least understand. In
despair, I was about to make up my mind to pass the night wrapped up in
a rug near the encampment, when among the strange words he uttered, I
fancied that I heard the name, _Bordj-Ebbaba_, and so I repeated:

"_Bordj-Ebbaba._"

"Yes, yes."

I showed him two francs that were a fortune to him, and he started off,
while I followed him. Ah! I followed that pale phantom which strode on
before me bare-footed along stony paths, on which I stumbled continually,
for a long time, and then suddenly I saw a light, and we soon reached the
door of a white house, a kind of fortress with straight walls, and
without any outside windows. When I knocked, dogs began to bark inside,
and a voice asked in French:

"Who is there?"

"Does Monsieur Auballe live here?" I asked.

"Yes."

The door was opened for me, and I found myself face to face with Monsieur
Auballe himself, a tall man in slippers, with a pipe in his mouth and the
looks of a jolly Hercules.

As soon as I mentioned my name, he put out both his hands and said:

"Consider yourself at home here, Monsieur."

A quarter of an hour later I was dining ravenously, opposite to my host,
who went on smoking.

I knew his history. After having wasted a great amount of money on women,
he had invested the remnants of his fortune in Algerian landed property
and taken to money-making. It turned out prosperously; he was happy, and
had the calm look of a happy and contented man. I could not understand
how this fast Parisian could have grown accustomed to that monstrous life
in such a lonely spot, and I asked him about it.

"How long have you been here?" I asked him.

"For nine years."

"And have you not been intolerably dull and miserable?"

"No, one gets used to this country, and ends by liking it. You cannot
imagine how it lays hold on people by those small, animal insti