ious falsetto, an "irrintzina," the only thing in this
country with which he never could become entirely familiar. But a great
mocking noise occurs in the distance, the crash of iron, whistles: a
train from Paris to Madrid, which is passing over there, behind them, in
the black of the French shore. And the Spirit of the old ages folds its
wings made of shade and vanishes. Silence returns: but after the passage
of this stupid and rapid thing, the Spirit which has fled reappears no
more--

At last, the bark which Ramuntcho awaited with Florentino appears,
hardly perceptible for other eyes than theirs, a little, gray form which
leaves behind it slight ripples on this mirror which is of the color of
the sky at night and wherein stars are reflected upside down. It is the
well-selected hour, the hour when the customs officers watch badly; the
hour also when the view is dimmer, when the last reflections of the sun
and those of the crescent of the moon have gone out, and the eyes of men
are not yet accustomed to darkness.

Then to get the prohibited phosphorus, they take their long fishing
sticks, and go into the water silently.

CHAPTER XIV.

There was a grand ball-game arranged for the following Sunday at
Erribiague, a far-distant village, near the tall mountains. Ramuntcho,
Arrochkoa and Florentino were to play against three celebrated ones
of Spain; they were to practice that evening, limber their arms on the
square of Etchezar, and Gracieuse, with other little girls of her age,
had taken seats on the granite benches to look at them. The girls, all
pretty; with elegant airs in their pale colored waists cut in accordance
with the most recent vagary of the season. And they were laughing, these
little girls, they were laughing! They were laughing because they had
begun laughing, without knowing why. Nothing, a word of their old Basque
tongue, without any appropriateness, by one of them, and there they were
all in spasms of laughter.--This country is truly one of the corners of
the world where the laughter of girls breaks out most easily, ringing
like clear crystal, ringing youthfulness and fresh throats.

Arrochkoa had been there for a long time, with the wicker glove at his
arm, throwing alone the pelota which, from time to time, children picked
up for him. But Ramuntcho, Florentino, what were they thinking of?
How late they were! They came at last, their foreheads wet with
perspiration, their walk heavy and embarras