and the stranger is perplexed at the inhospitable
curtain-wall that seems to refuse him admittance to the mediaeval delights
within. It almost heightens the impression that the place belongs
altogether to dreamland, for in that shadowy world all that is most
desirable is so often beyond the reach of the dreamer. It is a very
different impression that one gains if the steam train has been taken, for
its arrival is awaited by a small crowd of vulture-like servants and
porters from the hotels. The little crowd treats the incoming train-load of
tourists as its carrion, and one has no time to notice whether there is a
gateway or not before being swept along the sloping wooden staging that
leads to the only entrance. The simple archway in the outer wall leads into
the Cour de l'Avancee where those two great iron cannons, mentioned in an
earlier chapter, are conspicuous objects. They were captured by the heroic
garrison when the English, in 1433, made their last great effort to obtain
possession of the rock. Beyond these, one passes through the barbican to
the Cour de la Herse, which is largely occupied by the Hotel Poulard Aine.
Then one passes through the Porte du Roi, and enters the town proper. The
narrow little street is flanked by many an old house that has seen most of
the vicissitudes that the little island city has suffered. In fact many of
these shops which are now almost entirely given over to the sale of
mementoes and books of photographs of the island, are individually of great
interest. One of the most ancient in the upper part of the street, is
pointed out as that occupied in the fourteenth century by Tiphane de
Raguenel, the wife of the heroic Bertrand du Guesclin.

It is almost impossible for those who are sensitive in such matters, not to
feel some annoyance at the pleasant but persistent efforts of the vendors
of souvenirs to induce every single visitor to purchase at each separate
shop. To get an opportunity for closely examining the carved oaken beams
and architectural details of the houses, one must make at least some small
purchase at each trinket store in front of which one is inclined to pause.
Perhaps it would even be wise before attempting to look at anything
architectural in this quaintest of old-world streets, to go from one end to
the other, buying something of trifling cost, say a picture postcard, from
each saleswoman. In this way, one might purchase immunity from the
over-solicitous shop-keepers,