eleven o'clock
As in all his sentiments , as in all his sensations , there were mingled in it diverse elements . At first the instinctive and unanalyzed attachment of his maternal ancestors to the native soil , then something more refined coming from his father , an unconscious reflection of the artistic admiration which had retained the stranger here for several seasons and had given to him the caprice of allying himself with a girl of these mountains in order to obtain a Basque descendance . -- It is eleven o'clock now , and the bells of France and Spain mingle above the frontier their religious festival vibrations . Bathed , rested , and in Sunday dress , Ramuntcho was going with his mother to the high mass of All-Saints ' Day . On the path , strewn with reddish leaves , they descended toward their parish , under a warm sun which gave to them the illusion of summer . He , dressed in a manner almost elegant and like a city denizen , save for the traditional Basque cap , which he wore on the side and pulled down like a visor over his childish eyes .