In truth, we never were to be there.
[!-- Chapter 5 --]V
THE INSCRIPTION
With a blow of the tip of his cane Morhange knocked a fragment of rock from the black flank of the mountain.
"What is it?" he asked, holding it out to me.
"A basaltic peridot," I said.
"
It can't be very interesting, you barely glanced at it."
"It is very interesting, on the contrary. But, for the moment, I admit that I am otherwise preoccupied."