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Italian； he would have perhaps turned brigand； for the love of the
liberty so dear to him。 The child was a regular mountaineer； with the
black eyes that can face the sun without flinching； a deeply tanned
complexion； and rough brown hair。 His movements were like a bird's
swift； decided； and unconstrained； his clothing was ragged； the white；
fair skin showed through the rents in his garments。 There they both
stood in silence； side by side； both obeying the same impulse； in both
faces were clear tokens of an absolutely identical and idle life。 The
old man had adopted the child's amusements； and the child had fallen
in with the old man's humor； there was a sort of tacit agreement
between two kinds of feebleness； between failing powers well…nigh
spent and powers just about to unfold themselves。
Very soon a woman who seemed to be about thirty years old appeared on
the threshold of the door； spinning as she came。 She was an
Auvergnate； a high…colored； comfortable…looking； straightforward sort
of person； with white teeth； her cap and dress； the face； full figure；
and general appearance； were of the Auvergne peasant stamp。 So was her
dialect； she was a thorough embodiment of her district； its
hardworking ways； its thrift； ignorance； and heartiness all met in
her。
She greeted Raphael； and they began to talk。 The dogs quieted down；
the old man went and sat on a bench in the sun； the child followed his
mother about wherever she went； listening without saying a word； and
staring at the stranger。
〃You are not afraid to live here； good woman？〃
〃What should we be afraid of； sir？ When we bolt the door； who ever
could get inside？ Oh； no； we aren't afraid at all。 And besides；〃 she
said； as she brought the Marquis into the principal room in the house；
〃what should thieves come to take from us here？〃
She designated the room as she spoke； the smoke…blackened walls； with
some brilliant pictures in blue； red； and green； an 〃End of Credit；〃 a
Crucifixion； and the 〃Grenadiers of the Imperial Guard〃 for their sole
ornament； the furniture here and there； the old wooden four…post
bedstead； the table with crooked legs； a few stools； the chest that
held the bread； the flitch that hung from the ceiling； a jar of salt；
a stove； and on the mantleshelf a few discolored yellow plaster
figures。 As he went out again Raphael noticed a man half…way up the
crags； leaning on a hoe； and watching the house with interest。
〃That's my man； sir；〃 said the Auvergnate； unconsciously smiling in
peasant fashion； 〃he is at work up there。〃
〃And that old man is your father？〃
〃Asking your pardon； sir； he is my man's grandfather。 Such as you see
him； he is a hundred and two； and yet quite lately he walked over to
Clermont with our little chap！ Oh； he has been a strong man in his
time； but he does nothing now but sleep and eat and drink。 He amuses
himself with the little fellow。 Sometimes the child trails him up the
hillsides； and he will just go up there along with him。〃
Valentin made up his mind immediately。 He would live between this
child and old man； breathe the same air； eat their bread； drink the
same water； sleep with them； make the blood in his veins like theirs。
It was a dying man's fancy。 For him the prime model； after which the
customary existence of the individual should be shaped； the real
formula for the life of a human being； the only true and possible
life； the life…ideal； was to become one of the oysters adhering to
this rock； to save his shell a day or two longer by paralyzing the
power of death。 One profoundly selfish thought took possession of him；
and the whole universe was swallowed up and lost in it。 For him the
universe existed no longer； the whole world had come to be within
himself。 For the sick； the world begins at their pillow and ends at
the foot of the bed； and this countryside was Raphael's sick…bed。
Who has not； at some time or other in his life； watched the comings
and goings of an ant； slipped straws into a yellow slug's one
breathing…hole； studied the vagaries of a slender dragon…fly； pondered
admiringly over the countless veins in an oak…leaf； that bring the
colors of a rose window in some Gothic cathedral into contrast with
the reddish background？ Who has not looked long in delight at the
effects of sun and rain on a roof of brown tiles； at the dewdrops； or
at the variously shaped petals of the flower…cups？ Who has not sunk
into these idle； absorbing meditations on things without； that have no
conscious end； yet lead to some definite thought at last。 Who； in
short； has not led a lazy life； the life of childhood； the life of the
savage without his labor？ This life without a care or a wish Raphael
led for some days' space。 He felt a distinct improvement in his
condition； a wonderful sense of ease； that quieted his apprehensions
and soothed his sufferings。
He would climb the crags； and then find a seat high up on some peak
whence he could see a vast expanse of distant country at a glance； and
he would spend whole days in this way； like a plant in the sun； or a
hare in its form。 And at last； growing familiar with the appearances
of the plant…life about him； and of the changes in the sky； he
minutely noted the progress of everything working around him in the
water； on the earth； or in the air。 He tried to share the secret
impulses of nature； sought by passive obedience to become a part of
it； and to lie within the conservative and despotic jurisdiction that
regulates instinctive existence。 He no longer wished to steer his own
course。
Just as criminals in olden times were safe from the pursuit of
justice； if they took refuge under the shadow of the altar； so Raphael
made an effort to slip into the sanctuary of life。 He succeeded in
becoming an integral part of the great and mighty fruit…producing
organization； he had adapted himself to the inclemency of the air； and
had dwelt in every cave among the rocks。 He had learned the ways and
habits of growth of every plant； had studied the laws of the
watercourses and their beds； and had come to know the animals； he was
at last so perfectly at one with this teeming earth； that he had in
some sort discerned its mysteries and caught the spirit of it。
The infinitely varied forms of every natural kingdom were； to his
thinking； only developments of one and the same substance； different
combinations brought about by the same impulse； endless emanations
from a measureless Being which was acting； thinking； moving； and
growing； and in harmony with which he longed to grow； to move； to
think； and act。 He had fancifully blended his life with the life of
the crags； he had deliberately planted himself there。 During the
earliest days of his sojourn in these pleasant surroundings； Valentin
tasted all the pleasures of childhood again； thanks to the strange
hallucination of apparent convalescence； which is not unlike the
pauses of delirium that nature mercifully p