Upon the southern slope of one of those barren hills that rise abruptly hereand there in the desolate expanse of the Landes, in South-western France,stood, in the reign of Louis XIII, a gentleman’s residence, such asabound in Gascony, and which the country people dignify by the name of château.
Two tall towers, with extinguisher tops, mounted guard at the angles of themansion, and gave it rather a feudal air. The deep grooves upon its facadebetrayed the former existence of a draw-bridge, rendered unnecessary now by thefilling up of the moat, while the towers were draped for more than half theirheight with a most luxuriant growth of ivy, whose deep, rich green contrastedhappily with the ancient gray walls.
A traveller, seeing from afar the steep pointed roof and lofty towers standingout against the sky, above the furze and heather that crowned the hill-top,would have pronounced it a rather imposing château—the residence probablyof some provincial magnate; but as he drew near would have quickly found reasonto change his opinion. The road which led to it from the highway was entirelyovergrown with moss and weeds, save a narrow pathway in the centre, though twodeep ruts, full of water, and inhabited by a numerous family of frogs, boremute witness to the fact that carriages had once passed that way.
The roof, of dark red tiles, was disfigured by many large, leprous-looking,yellow patches, while in some places