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her。 If I were to reach the lakeside before dark； she must bestir
her little shanks to some tune。 Already the sun had gone down into
a windy…looking mist； and although there were still a few streaks
of gold far off to the east on the hills and the black fir…woods；
all was cold and grey about our onward path。 An infinity of little
country by…roads led hither and thither among the fields。 It was
the most pointless labyrinth。 I could see my destination overhead；
or rather the peak that dominates it； but choose as I pleased； the
roads always ended by turning away from it； and sneaking back
towards the valley； or northward along the margin of the hills。
The failing light； the waning colour； the naked； unhomely； stony
country through which I was travelling； threw me into some
despondency。 I promise you； the stick was not idle； I think every
decent step that Modestine took must have cost me at least two
emphatic blows。 There was not another sound in the neighbourhood
but that of my unwearying bastinado。
Suddenly； in the midst of my toils； the load once more bit the
dust； and； as by enchantment； all the cords were simultaneously
loosened； and the road scattered with my dear possessions。 The
packing was to begin again from the beginning； and as I had to
invent a new and better system； I do not doubt but I lost half an
hour。 It began to be dusk in earnest as I reached a wilderness of
turf and stones。 It had the air of being a road which should lead
everywhere at the same time； and I was falling into something not
unlike despair when I saw two figures stalking towards me over the
stones。 They walked one behind the other like tramps； but their
pace was remarkable。 The son led the way； a tall； ill…made；
sombre； Scottish…looking man； the mother followed； all in her
Sunday's best； with an elegantly embroidered ribbon to her cap； and
a new felt hat atop； and proffering； as she strode along with
kilted petticoats； a string of obscene and blasphemous oaths。
I hailed the son； and asked him my direction。 He pointed loosely
west and north…west； muttered an inaudible comment； and； without
slackening his pace for an instant； stalked on； as he was going；
right athwart my path。 The mother followed without so much as
raising her head。 I shouted and shouted after them； but they
continued to scale the hillside； and turned a deaf ear to my
outcries。 At last； leaving Modestine by herself； I was constrained
to run after them； hailing the while。 They stopped as I drew near；
the mother still cursing； and I could see she was a handsome；
motherly； respectable…looking woman。 The son once more answered me
roughly and inaudibly； and was for setting out again。 But this
time I simply collared the mother； who was nearest me； and；
apologising for my violence； declared that I could not let them go
until they had put me on my road。 They were neither of them
offended … rather mollified than otherwise； told me I had only to
follow them； and then the mother asked me what I wanted by the lake
at such an hour。 I replied； in the Scottish manner； by inquiring
if she had far to go herself。 She told me； with another oath； that
she had an hour and a half's road before her。 And then； without
salutation； the pair strode forward again up the hillside in the
gathering dusk。
I returned for Modestine； pushed her briskly forward； and； after a
sharp ascent of twenty minutes； reached the edge of a plateau。 The
view； looking back on my day's journey； was both wild and sad。
Mount Mezenc and the peaks beyond St。 Julien stood out in trenchant
gloom against a cold glitter in the east； and the intervening field
of hills had fallen together into one broad wash of shadow； except
here and there the outline of a wooded sugar…loaf in black； here
and there a white irregular patch to represent a cultivated farm；
and here and there a blot where the Loire； the Gazeille； or the
Laussonne wandered in a gorge。
Soon we were on a high…road； and surprise seized on my mind as I
beheld a village of some magnitude close at hand； for I had been
told that the neighbourhood of the lake was uninhabited except by
trout。 The road smoked in the twilight with children driving home
cattle from the fields； and a pair of mounted stride…legged women；
hat and cap and all； dashed past me at a hammering trot from the
canton where they had been to church and market。 I asked one of
the children where I was。 At Bouchet St。 Nicolas； he told me。
Thither； about a mile south of my destination； and on the other
side of a respectable summit； had these confused roads and
treacherous peasantry conducted me。 My shoulder was cut； so that
it hurt sharply； my arm ached like toothache from perpetual
beating； I gave up the lake and my design to camp； and asked for
the AUBERGE。
I HAVE A GOAD
THE AUBERGE of Bouchet St。 Nicolas was among the least pretentious
I have ever visited； but I saw many more of the like upon my
journey。 Indeed； it was typical of these French highlands。
Imagine a cottage of two stories； with a bench before the door； the
stable and kitchen in a suite； so that Modestine and I could hear
each other dining； furniture of the plainest； earthern floors； a
single bedchamber for travellers； and that without any convenience
but beds。 In the kitchen cooking and eating go forward side by
side； and the family sleep at night。 Any one who has a fancy to
wash must do so in public at the common table。 The food is
sometimes spare； hard fish and omelette have been my portion more
than once； the wine is of the smallest； the brandy abominable to
man； and the visit of a fat sow； grouting under the table and
rubbing against your legs； is no impossible accompaniment to
dinner。
But the people of the inn； in nine cases out of ten； show
themselves friendly and considerate。 As soon as you cross the
doors you cease to be a stranger； and although these peasantry are
rude and forbidding on the highway； they show a tincture of kind
breeding when you share their hearth。 At Bouchet； for instance； I
uncorked my bottle of Beaujolais； and asked the host to join me。
He would take but little。
'I am an amateur of such wine； do you see？' he said； 'and I am
capable of leaving you not enough。'
In these hedge…inns the traveller is expected to eat with his own
knife； unless he ask； no other will be supplied： with a glass； a
whang of bread； and an iron fork； the table is completely laid。 My
knife was cordially admired by the landlord of Bouchet； and the
spring filled him with wonder。
'I should never have guessed that；' he said。 'I would bet；' he
added； weighing it in his hand； 'that this cost you not less than
five francs。'
When I told him it had cost me twenty； his jaw dropped。
He was a mild； handsome； sensible； friendly old man； astonishingly
ignorant。 His wife； who was not so pleasant in her manners； knew
how to read； although I do not suppose she ever did so。 She had a
share of brains and spoke with a cutting emphasis； like one who
ruled the roast。
'My man knows nothing；' she said； with an angry nod； 'he is like
the beasts。'
And the old gentleman signified acquiescence with his head。 There
was no contempt on her part； and no shame on his； the facts were
accepted loyally； and no more about the matter。
I was tightly cross…examined about my journey； and the lady
understood in a moment； and sketched out what I should put into my
book when I got home。 'Whether people harvest or not in such or
such a place； if there were forests； studies of manners； what； for
example； I and the master of the house say to you； the beauties of
Nature； and all that。' And she interrogated me with a look。
'It is just that；' said I。
'You see；' she added to her husband； 'I understood that。