direction. He read them
slowly, with serious attention and the interest which we only pay to
things which touch our hearts.

Then he put the letter on the mantelpiece and said:

"That was a curious story! I've never told you about it, I think. Yet it
was a sentimental adventure, and it really happened to me. That was a
strange New Year's Day, indeed! It must have been twenty years ago, for I
was then thirty and am now fifty years old.

"I was then an inspector in the Maritime Insurance Company, of which I am
now director. I had arranged to pass New Year's Day in Paris--since
it is customary to make that day a fete--when I received a letter
from the manager, asking me to proceed at once to the island of Re, where
a three-masted vessel from Saint-Nazaire, insured by us, had just been
driven ashore. It was then eight o'clock in the morning. I arrived at the
office at ten to get my advices, and that evening I took the express,
which put me down in La Rochelle the next day, the 31st of December.

"I had two hours to wait before going aboard the boat for Re. So I made a
tour of the town. It is certainly a queer city, La Rochelle, with strong
characteristics of its own streets tangled like a labyrinth, sidewalks
running under endless arcaded galleries like those of the Rue de Rivoli,
but low, mysterious, built as if to form a suitable setting for
conspirators and making a striking background for those old-time wars,
the savage heroic wars of religion. It is indeed the typical old Huguenot
city, conservative, discreet, with no fine art to show, with no wonderful
monuments, such as make Rouen; but it is remarkable for its severe,
somewhat sullen look; it is a city of obstinate fighters, a city where
fanaticism might well blossom, where the faith of the Calvinists became
enthusiastic and which gave birth to the plot of the 'Four Sergeants.'

"After I had wandered for some time about these curious streets, I went
aboard the black, rotund little steamboat which was to take me to the
island of Re. It was called the Jean Guiton. It started with angry
puffings, passed between the two old towers which guard the harbor,
crossed the roadstead and issued from the mole built by Richelieu, the
great stones of which can be seen at the water's edge, enclosing the town
like a great necklace. Then the steamboat turned to the right.

"It was one of those sad days which give one the blues, tighten the heart
and take away all strength and en