e fifth ridge standing up
black and huge before me against the last of the daylight. There were
as yet no stars.

There, in this silent place, was the little village of Undervelier,
and I thanked the boy, withdrew from his cart, and painfully
approached the inn, where I asked the woman if she could give me
something to eat, and she said that she could in about an hour, using,
however, with regard to what it was I was to have, words which I did
not understand. For the French had become quite barbaric, and I was
now indeed lost in one of the inner places of the world.

A cigar is, however, even in Undervelier, a cigar; and the best cost a
penny. One of these, therefore, I bought, and then I went out smoking
it into the village square, and, finding a low wall, leaned over it
and contemplated the glorious clear green water tumbling and roaring
along beneath it on the other side; for a little river ran through the
village.

As I leaned there resting and communing I noticed how their church,
close at hand, was built along the low banks of the torrent. I admired
the luxuriance of the grass these waters fed, and the generous arch of
the trees beside it. The graves seemed set in a natural place of rest
and home, and just beyond this churchyard was that marriage of hewn
stone and water which is the source of so peculiar a satisfaction; for
the church tower was built boldly right out into the stream and the
current went eddying round it. But why it is that strong human
building when it dips into water should thus affect the mind I cannot
say, only I know that it is an emotion apart to see our device and
structure where it is most enduring come up against and challenge that
element which we cannot conquer, and which has always in it something
of danger for men. It is therefore well to put strong mouldings on to
piers and quays, and to make an architecture of them, and so it was a
splendid thought of the Romans to build their villas right out to sea;
so they say does Venice enthrall one, but where I have most noticed
this thing is at the Mont St Michel--only one must take care to shut
one's eyes or sleep during all the low tide.

As I was watching that stream against those old stones, my cigar being
now half smoked, a bell began tolling, and it seemed as if the whole
village were pouring into the church. At this I was very much
surprised, not having been used at any time of my life to the
unanimous devotion of an entire populat