outbuildings. Hens raced about, and without
ceremony flew up to the window and demanded their share of the feast.
Several cats came in; so that, as far as animals were concerned, we
might still consider ourselves in Paradise.

Then we passed out by way of the window, and immense dogs bade us
defiance and woke the echoes of the neighbourhood. Luckily they were
chained, and H.C.'s "Cave canem!" was superfluous. The church struck out
the hour. Placed in a sort of three-cornered square above the inn, the
tower stood out boldly against the background of sky, but it possessed
no beauty or merit. Away out of sight and hearing, we imagined the
glorious sea breaking and frothing over the rocks, and the points of
land that stretched out ruggedly towards the horizon; but we did not go
down to it. We felt out of tune with our surroundings, and only cared
for the moment when we should commence the long drive homeward. Had we
possessed some special anathema, some charm that would have placed our
driver under a mild punishment for twenty-four hours, I believe that we
should not have spared him.

So, on the whole, we were glad that our excursion to le Folgoet would
have to be done in part by train. We arranged it for the morrow, making
the most of our blue skies.

"You will have a charming day," said Madame Hellard, as we prepared to
set out the next morning. "I do not even recommend umbrellas. It is the
sort of wind that in Brittany never brings rain."

Our only objection was that there was rather too much of it.

Declining the omnibus, which rattled over the stones and was more or
less of a sarcophagus, without its repose, we mounted the interminable
Jacob's Ladder, and glanced in at our Antiquarian's. He was absent this
morning; had gone a little way into the country, where he had heard of
some Louis XIV. furniture that was to be sold by the Prior of an old
Abbey: though how so much that was luxurious and worldly had ever
entered an abbey seemed a mystery.

We were soon en route for Landerneau, our destination as far as the
train was concerned. The line, picturesque and diversified, passed
through a narrow wooded valley where ran the river Elorn. On the left
was the extensive forest of Brezal; and in the small wood of
_Pont-Christ_, an interesting sixteenth century chapel faced an ancient
and romantic windmill. Close to this was a large pond, surrounded by
rugged rocks and firs; altogether a wild and beautiful scene. Soon
aft