“Poor girl!” said Genestas.

“Oh! the folk round about do not pity her at all,” said Benassis; “on the other hand, they think her very lucky; but there is this difference between her and the other women:  God has given strength to them and weakness to her, and they do not see that.”

The moment that the two horsemen came out upon the road to Grenoble, Benassis stopped with an air of satisfaction; a different view had suddenly opened out before them; he foresaw its effect upon Genestas, and wished to enjoy his surprise.  As far as the eye could see, two green walls sixty feet high rose above a road which was rounded like a garden path.  The trees had not been cut or trimmed, each one preserved the magnificent palm-branch shape that makes the Lombard poplar one of the grandest of trees; there they stood, a natural monument which a man might well be proud of having reared.  The shadow had already reached one side of the road, transforming it into a vast wall of black leaves, but the setting sun shone full upon the other side, which stood out in contrast, for the young leaves at the tips of every branch had been dyed a bright golden hue, and, as the breeze stirred through the waving curtain, it gleamed in the light.

“You must be very happy here!” cried Genestas.  “The sight of this must be all pleasure to you.”

“The love of Nature is the only love that does not deceive human hopes.  There is no disappointment here,” said the doctor.  “Those poplars are ten years old; have you ever seen any that are better grown than these of mine?”

“God is great!” said the soldier, coming to a stand in the middle of the road, of which he saw neither beginning nor end.

“You do me good,” cried Benassis.  “It was a pleasure to hear you say over again what I have so often said in the midst of this avenue.  There is something holy about this place.  Here, we are like two mere specks; and the feeling of our own littleness always brings us into the presence of God.”

They rode on slowly and in silence, listening to their horses’ hoof-beats; the sound echoed along the green corridor as it might have done beneath the vaulted roof of a cathedral.

“How many things have a power to stir us which town-dwellers do not suspect,” said the doctor.  “Do you not notice the sweet scent given off by the gum of the poplar buds, and the resin of the larches?  How delightful it is!”

“Listen!” exclaimed Genestas.  “Let us wait a moment.”

A distant sound of singing came to their ears.

“Is it a woman or a man, or is it a bird?” asked the commandant in a low voice.  “Is it the voice of this wonderful landscape?”

“It is something of all these things,” the doctor answered, as he dismounted and fastened his horse to a branch of a poplar tree.