He looked at the city with kindly but sad eyes.

He could see himself disembarking there that last time, sick, without will-power, overwhelmed by the tragic disappearance of his son.
The _Mare Nostrum_ approached the mouth of the old harbor having at its right the batteries of the _Phare_.

This old port was the most interesting souvenir of ancient Marseilles, penetrating like an aquatic knife into the heart of its clustered homes.

The city extended along the wharves.

It was an enormous stretch of water into which all the streets flowed; but its area was now so insufficient for the maritime traffic that eight new harbors were gradually covering the north shore of the bay.
An interminable jetty, a breakwater longer than the city itself, was parallel to the coast, and in the space between the shore and this obstacle which made the waves foam and roar were eight roomy communicating harbors stretching from Joliette at the entrance to the one which, farthest away, is connected inland by the great subterranean canal, putting the city in communication with the Rhone.
Ferragut had seen anchored in this succession of harbors the navies of every land and even of every epoch.