Previously to the two families becoming allied by marriage, the keepers of the powder-magazine and of the lazaretto had known each other in the navy, wherein one was a quarter-master and the other a sergeant of artillery. Appointed to Trébéron, Mathieu Ropars had rejoiced at the idea of meeting his old ship-mate Dorot, already several years established at the Ile des Morts, with his wife, his son, and a female orphan relative. The lazaretto being almost always deserted, he was left with ample leisure for frequent visits to the powder-magazine, and for becoming well known there and thoroughly appreciated. Geneviève, Dorot's cousin, was particularly taken with such a character, so straight-forward and yet so gentle. She had been tried, until she was sixteen, by all the pains and penalties of misery. Taken then, from charitable motives, into the house of her cousin whose wife occasionally made her pay dearly enough for his hospitality, the poor orphan had accustomed herself to expecting nothing at any one's hands, and to receiving as a favour whatever was accorded her. Thus the frank cordiality of Mathieu was more touching in her eyes than it would have been in those of another. She welcomed it with a gratitude half filial, to which insensibly became added that shade of a more tender feeling, always blended into the attachments of a woman whose heart is disengaged. An intimacy between herself and Ropars went on, strengthening from day to day, whilst neither of them took account of their predilections. As he marked the young girl in the bloom of her expanding beauty, Mathieu, who already felt the weight of years upon him, would never have dreamed of asking her to share his existence; whilst Geneviève, happy in seeing him daily and in the consciousness of his immediate neighbourhood, thought not of desiring anything further. It needed the offer of a situation for her at Brest, and the consequent prospect of a separation, to enlighten them as to their mutual dependence on each other. Perceiving that Geneviève shed tears, Ropars, who could not shut his eyes to his own distress of mind, took courage and brought matters to a point. He told her that she might dispense with this separation, if the isle of Trébéron were no more irksome to her than the Ile des Morts, and if his society were as agreeable to her as that of her cousin. The poor girl, weeping, blushing and overjoyed, could only reply by letting herself fall into his arms. The old quarter-master forthwith opened his mind to Dorot. The marriage took place; and he carried off Geneviève to his islet, of which henceforth he mistrusted not the solitude.