rs-on, the Spanish Basques were more numerous; there were large
sombreros, waistcoats and gaiters of the olden time.

The judges of the two nations, designated by chance, saluted each
other with a superannuated politeness, and the match began, in profound
silence, under an oppressive sun which annoyed the players, in spite of
their caps, pulled down over their eyes.

Ramuntcho soon, and after him Arrochkoa, were acclaimed as victors. And
people looked at the two little strangers, so attentive, in the first
row, so pretty also with their elegant pink waists, and people said:
"They are the sweethearts of the two good players." Then Gracieuse, who
heard everything, felt proud of Ramuntcho.

Noon. They had been playing for almost an hour. The old wall, with its
summit curved like a cupola, was cracking from dryness and from heat,
under its paint of yellow ochre. The grand Pyrenean masses, nearer here
than at Etchezar, more crushing and more high, dominated from everywhere
these little, human groups, moving in a deep fold of their sides. And
the sun fell straight on the heavy caps of the men, on the bare heads
of the women, heating the brains, increasing enthusiasm. The passionate
crowd yelled, and the pelotas were flying, when, softly, the angelus
began to ring. Then an old man, all wrinkled, all burned, who was
waiting for this signal, put his mouth to the clarion--his old clarion
of a Zouave in Africa--and rang the call to rest. And all, the women who
were seated rose; all the caps fell, uncovering hair black, blonde
or white, and the entire people made the sign of the cross, while the
players, with chests and foreheads streaming with perspiration, stopped
in the heat of the game and stood in meditation with heads bent--

At two o'clock, the game having come to an end gloriously for the
French, Arrochkoa and Ramuntcho went in their little wagon, accompanied
and acclaimed by all the young men of Erribiague; then Gracieuse sat
between the two, and they started for their long, charming trip, their
pockets full of the gold which they had earned, intoxicated by their
joy, by the noise and by the sunlight.

And Ramuntcho, who retained the taste of yesterday's kiss, felt like
shouting to them: "This little girl who is so pretty, as you see, is
mine! Her lips are mine, I had them yesterday and will take them again
to-night!"

They started and at once found silence again, in the shaded valleys
bordered by foxglove and ferns-