y but sad eyes. He could see himself disembarking there
that last time, sick, without will-power, overwhelmed by the tragic
disappearance of his son.

The _Mare Nostrum_ approached the mouth of the old harbor having at its
right the batteries of the _Phare_. This old port was the most
interesting souvenir of ancient Marseilles, penetrating like an aquatic
knife into the heart of its clustered homes. The city extended along
the wharves. It was an enormous stretch of water into which all the
streets flowed; but its area was now so insufficient for the maritime
traffic that eight new harbors were gradually covering the north shore
of the bay.

An interminable jetty, a breakwater longer than the city itself, was
parallel to the coast, and in the space between the shore and this
obstacle which made the waves foam and roar were eight roomy
communicating harbors stretching from Joliette at the entrance to the
one which, farthest away, is connected inland by the great subterranean
canal, putting the city in communication with the Rhone.

Ferragut had seen anchored in this succession of harbors the navies of
every land and even of every epoch. Near to the enormous transatlantic
liners were some very ancient tartans and some Greek boats, heavy and
of archaic form, which recalled the fleets described in the Iliad.

On the wharves swarmed all kinds of Mediterranean men,--Greeks from the
continent and from the islands, Levantines from the coast of Asia,
Spaniards, Italians, Algerians, Moroccans, Egyptians. Many had kept
their original costume and to this varied picturesque garb was united a
diversity of tongues, some of them mysterious and well-nigh extinct. As
though infected by the oral confusion, the French themselves began to
forget their native language, speaking the dialect of Marseilles, which
preserves indelible traces of its Greek origin.

The _Mare Nostrum_ crossed the outer port, the inner harbor of
Joliette, and slipped slowly along past groups of pedestrians and carts
that were waiting the closing of the steel drawbridge now opening
before their prow. Then they cast anchor in the basin of Arenc near the
docks.

When Ferragut could go ashore he noticed the great transformation which
this port had undergone in war times.

The traffic of the times of peace with its infinite variety of wares no
longer existed. On the wharves there were piled up only the monotonous
and uniform loads of provisions and war material.