ven
partial intimacies. And if we find but one to whom we can speak out of
our heart freely, with whom we can walk in love and simplicity without
dissimulation, we have no ground of quarrel with the world or God.

IN THE VALLEY OF THE MIMENTE

On Tuesday, 1st October, we left Florac late in the afternoon, a tired
donkey and tired donkey-driver. A little way up the Tarnon, a covered
bridge of wood introduced us into the valley of the Mimente. Steep rocky
red mountains overhung the stream; great oaks and chestnuts grew upon the
slopes or in stony terraces; here and there was a red field of millet or
a few apple-trees studded with red apples; and the road passed hard by
two black hamlets, one with an old castle atop to please the heart of the
tourist.

It was difficult here again to find a spot fit for my encampment. Even
under the oaks and chestnuts the ground had not only a very rapid slope,
but was heaped with loose stones; and where there was no timber the hills
descended to the stream in a red precipice tufted with heather. The sun
had left the highest peak in front of me, and the valley was full of the
lowing sound of herdsmen's horns as they recalled the flocks into the
stable, when I spied a bight of meadow some way below the roadway in an
angle of the river. Thither I descended, and, tying Modestine
provisionally to a tree, proceeded to investigate the neighbourhood. A
grey pearly evening shadow filled the glen; objects at a little distance
grew indistinct and melted bafflingly into each other; and the darkness
was rising steadily like an exhalation. I approached a great oak which
grew in the meadow, hard by the river's brink; when to my disgust the
voices of children fell upon my ear, and I beheld a house round the angle
on the other bank. I had half a mind to pack and be gone again, but the
growing darkness moved me to remain. I had only to make no noise until
the night was fairly come, and trust to the dawn to call me early in the
morning. But it was hard to be annoyed by neighbours in such a great
hotel.

A hollow underneath the oak was my bed. Before I had fed Modestine and
arranged my sack, three stars were already brightly shining, and the
others were beginning dimly to appear. I slipped down to the river,
which looked very black among its rocks, to fill my can; and dined with a
good appetite in the dark, for I scrupled to light a lantern while so
near a house. The moon, which I had