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As he found life exceedingly tedious in this fortress this stuffy mole-hole enclosed by its enormous double walls, he often strolled out to the cape, a kind of park or pine wood shaken by all the winds from the sea. There he met Madame Parisse, who also came out in the summer evenings to get the fresh air under the trees. How did they come to love each other? Who knows?
The image of the young woman with the brown eyes, the black hair, the pale skin, this fresh, handsome Southerner, who displayed her teeth in smiling, floated before the eyes of the officer as he continued his promenade, chewing his cigar instead of smoking it; and the image of the commanding officer, in his close-fitting coat, covered with gold lace, and his red trousers, and a little blond mustache, would pass before the eyes of Madame Parisse, when her husband, half shaven and ill-clad, short-legged and big-bellied, came home to supper in the evening.
The image of the young woman with the brown eyes, the black hair, the pale skin, this fresh, handsome Southerner, who displayed her teeth in smiling, floated before the eyes of the officer as he continued his promenade, chewing his cigar instead of smoking it; and the image of the commanding officer, in his close-fitting coat, covered with gold lace, and his red trousers, and a little blond mustache, would pass before the eyes of Madame Parisse, when her husband, half shaven and ill-clad, short-legged and big-bellied, came home to supper in the evening.
"That is Madame Parisse, you know," muttered Monsieur Martini, dwelling on the final syllable. No, I did not know, but that name, mentioned carelessly, that name of the Trojan shepherd, confirmed me in my dream. However, I asked: "Who is this Madame Parisse?" He seemed astonished that I did not know the story.
Toward eight o'clock he sent for Captain Gribois, the second in command, and said, rolling between his fingers the crumpled telegram of Monsieur Parisse: "Captain, I have just received a telegram of a very singular nature, which it is impossible for me to communicate to you.
They clinked glasses drank down the brown liquor and Captain Gribois left the room. The train from Marseilles arrived at the station at nine o'clock sharp, left two passengers on the platform and went on toward Nice. One of them, tall and thin, was Monsieur Saribe, the oil merchant, and the other, short and fat, was Monsieur Parisse.
Saribe and Parisse, like the prudent men they were, desisted from their efforts and went back to the station for shelter, since it was not safe to be near the fortifications after sundown. The station agent, surprised and sleepy, permitted them to stay till morning in the waiting-room. And they sat there side by side, in the dark, on the green velvet sofa, too scared to think of sleeping.
Unwillingly she had accepted Monsieur Parisse, one of those little fat men with short legs, who trip along, with trousers that are always too large. After the war Antibes was garrisoned by a single battalion commanded by Monsieur Jean de Carmelin, a young officer decorated during the war, and who had just received his four stripes.
Madame Parisse returned, her promenade being ended. She passed gravely near me, with her eyes fixed on the Alps, whose summits now gleamed rosy in the last rays of the setting sun.
"That is Madame Parisse, you know," muttered Monsieur Martini, dwelling on the final syllable. No, I did not know, but that name, mentioned carelessly, that name of the Trojan shepherd, confirmed me in my dream. However, I asked: "Who is this Madame Parisse?" He seemed astonished that I did not know the story.
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