e kingdom of Naples, and its ladies were sought in marriage by half
the first princes in Europe. A considerable part of the little narrative
of M. Canonge is taken up with the great alliances of the House of Baux,
whose fortunes, matrimonial and other, he traces from the eleventh
century down to the sixteenth. The empty shells of a considerable number
of old houses, many of which must have been superb, the lines of certain
steep little streets, the foundations of a castle, and ever so many
splendid views, are all that remains to-day of these great titles. To
such a list I may add a dozen very polite and sympathetic people who
emerged from the interstices of the desultory little town to gaze at the
two foreigners who had driven over from Arles and whose horses were
being baited at the modest inn. The resources of this establishment we
did not venture otherwise to test, in spite of the seductive fact that
the sign over the door was in the Provencal tongue. This little group
included the baker, a rather melancholy young man, in high boots and a
cloak, with whom and his companions we had a good deal of conversation.
The Baussenques of to-day struck me as a very mild and agreeable race,
with a good deal of the natural amenity which, on occasions like this
one, the traveller who is waiting for his horses to be put in or his
dinner to be prepared observes in the charming people who lend
themselves to conversation in the hill-towns of Tuscany. The spot where
our entertainers at Les Baux congregated was naturally the most
inhabited portion of the town; as I say, there were at least a dozen
human figures within sight. Presently we wandered away from them, scaled
the higher places, seated ourselves among the ruins of the castle, and
looked down from the cliff overhanging that portion of the road which I
have mentioned as approaching Les Baux from behind. I was unable to
trace the configuration of the castle as plainly as the writers who have
described it in the guide-books, and I am ashamed to say that I did not
even perceive the three great figures of stone (the three Marys, as they
are called; the two Marys of Scripture, with Martha) which constitute
one of the curiosities of the place and of which M. Jules Canonge speaks
with almost hyperbolical admiration. A brisk shower, lasting some ten
minutes, led us to take refuge in a cavity of mysterious origin, where
the melancholy baker presently discovered us, having had the _bonne
pen