the

high-caste, chiseled, and otherwise beautified and beautifying

features of Monseigneur.

For, in these times, as the mender of roads worked, solitary, in

the dust, not often troubling himself to reflect that dust he was and

to dust he must return, being for the most part too much occupied

in thinking how little he had for supper and how much more he

would eat if he had itin these times, as he raised his eyes from

his lonely labour, and viewed the prospect, he would see some

rough figure approaching on foot, the like of which was once a

rarity in those parts, but was now a frequent presence. As it

advanced, the mender of roads would discern without surprise,

that it was a shaggy-haired man, of almost barbarian aspect, tall,

in wooden shoes that were clumsy even to the eyes of a mender of

roads, grim, rough, swart, steeped in the mud and dust of many

highways, dank with the marshy moisture of many low grounds,

sprinkled with the thorns and leaves and moss of many byways

through woods.

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Such a man came upon him, like a ghost, at noon in the July

weather, as he sat on his heap of stones under a bank, taking such

shelter as he could get from a shower of hail.

The man looked at him, looked at the village in the hollow, at

the mill, and at the prison on the crag. When he had identified