oad, which led away to the north and south, when he was
aroused by the shrill voice of his wife, and grumbling to himself as he
went, he mounted to her chamber, first taking care, however, to set the
entrance door wide open, as an invitation to any chance traveller who
might be passing.

At the moment Caderousse quitted his sentry-like watch before the door,
the road on which he so eagerly strained his sight was void and
lonely as a desert at mid-day. There it lay stretching out into one
interminable line of dust and sand, with its sides bordered by tall,
meagre trees, altogether presenting so uninviting an appearance, that no
one in his senses could have imagined that any traveller, at liberty
to regulate his hours for journeying, would choose to expose himself in
such a formidable Sahara. Nevertheless, had Caderousse but retained
his post a few minutes longer, he might have caught a dim outline of
something approaching from the direction of Bellegarde; as the moving
object drew nearer, he would easily have perceived that it consisted of
a man and horse, between whom the kindest and most amiable understanding
appeared to exist. The horse was of Hungarian breed, and ambled along
at an easy pace. His rider was a priest, dressed in black, and wearing a
three-cornered hat; and, spite of the ardent rays of a noonday sun, the
pair came on with a fair degree of rapidity.

Having arrived before the Pont du Gard, the horse stopped, but whether
for his own pleasure or that of his rider would have been difficult
to say. However that might have been, the priest, dismounting, led his
steed by the bridle in search of some place to which he could secure
him. Availing himself of a handle that projected from a half-fallen
door, he tied the animal safely and having drawn a red cotton
handkerchief, from his pocket, wiped away the perspiration that streamed
from his brow, then, advancing to the door, struck thrice with the end
of his iron-shod stick. At this unusual sound, a huge black dog came
rushing to meet the daring assailant of his ordinarily tranquil
abode, snarling and displaying his sharp white teeth with a determined
hostility that abundantly proved how little he was accustomed to
society. At that moment a heavy footstep was heard descending the
wooden staircase that led from the upper floor, and, with many bows and
courteous smiles, mine host of the Pont du Gard besought his guest to
enter.

"You are welcome, sir, most welco