n.
After vespers, and before supper, he, Dr. Senior, and I made the tour of
Ville-en-bois, investigating the close, dark cottages, and discussing
plans for rendering them more wholesome. The next day, and the day
following, the same subject continued to occupy him and Dr. Senior; and
thus the pain of our departure was counterbalanced by his pleasure in
anticipating the advantages to be obtained by a thorough drainage of his
village, and more ventilation and light in the dwellings.

The evening before we were to set out on our return to England, while
the whole population, including Dr. Senior, were assisting at vespers, I
turned my feet toward the little cemetery on the hill-side, which I had
never yet visited.--The sun had sunk below the tops of the
pollard-trees, which grew along the brow of the hill in grotesque and
fantastic shapes; but a few stray beams glimmered through the branches,
and fell here and there in spots of dancing light. The small square
enclosure was crowded with little hillocks, at the head of which stood
simple crosses of wood; crosses so light and little as to seem
significant emblems of the difference between our sorrows, and those
borne for our sakes upon Calvary. Wreaths of immortelles hung upon most
of them. Below me lay the valley and the homes where the dead at my feet
had lived; the sunshine lingered yet about the spire, with its cross,
which towered above the belfry; but all else was in shadow, which was
slowly deepening into night. In the west the sky was flushing and
throbbing with transparent tints of amber and purple and green, with
flecks of cloud floating across it of a pale gold. Eastward it was still
blue, but fading into a faint gray. The dusky green of the cypresses
looked black, as I turned my splendor-dazzled eyes toward them.

I strolled to and fro among the grassy mounds, not consciously seeking
one of them; though, very deep down in my inmost spirit, there must have
been an impulse which unwittingly directed me. I did not stay my feet,
or turn away from the village burial-place, until I came upon a grave,
the latest made among them. It was solitary, unmarked; with no cross to
throw its shadow along it, as the sun was setting. I knew then that I
had come to seek it, to bid farewell to it, to leave it behind me for
evermore.

The next morning Monsieur Laurentie accompanied us on our journey, as
far as the cross at the entrance to the valley. He parted with us there;
and whe