Franchita had been almost afraid that he would never return, her son.--But at last, he was coming back. Between her fingers, thin and warm, she held the letter which said: “I start day after to-morrow and I will be with you Saturday night.” But what would he do, at his return, what would he make of his life, so sadly changed? In his letters, he had obstinately refrained from writing of this. Anyway, everything had turned against her. The farmers, her tenants, had left Etchezar, leaving the barn empty, the house more lonely, and naturally her modest income was much diminished. Moreover, in an imprudent investment, she had lost a part of the money which the stranger had given for her son. Truly, she was too unskilful a mother, compromising in every way the happiness of her beloved Ramuntcho,--or rather, she was a mother upon whom justice from above fell heavily to-day, because of her past error.--And all this had vanquished her, all this had hastened and aggravated the malady which the physician, called too late, did not succeed in checking. Now, therefore, waiting for the return of her son, she was stretched on her bed, burning with fever. CHAPTER II. He was returning, Ramuntcho, after his three years of absence, discharged from the army in that city of the North where his regiment was in garrison. He was returning with his heart in disarray, with his heart in a tumult and in distress. His twenty-two year old face had darkened under the ardent sun; his mustache, now very long, gave him an air of proud nobility. And, on the lapel of the civilian coat which he had just bought, appeared the glorious ribbon of his medal. At Bordeaux, where he had arrived after a night of travel, he had taken a place, with some emotion, in that train of Irun which descends in a direct line toward the South, through the monotony of the interminable moors. Near the right door he had installed himself in order to see sooner the Bay of Biscay open and the highlands of Spain sketch themselves. Then, near Bayonne, he had been startled at the sight of the first Basque caps, at the tall gates, the first Basque houses among the pines and the oaks.