The black pearl

PART I.

I

At Gwylata

Heureux qui comme Ulysse, a fait un beau voyage.

DU BELLAY.

A terrific noise makes me jump from my chair, a confused uproar of grating wheels, horse-hoofs, the barking of dogs and the cracking of whips.

“The coach, Jeanne, with your luggage,” says my uncle.

I run to the verandah to see this relic of bygone days.

A true _...