His whole ambition, he said, was to return to Rennes once more
during his lifetime. And only for the purpose, mind you, of going back,
of making the trip, and being able to boast of it afterwards. He knows
every road and every _commune_ that has a steeple; he takes short cuts
across the fields, opens gates, and when he passes in front of a farm,
he never fails to greet its owners. Having listened to the birds all his
life, he has learned to imitate their chirpings, and when he walks along
the roads, under the trees, he whistles as his feathered friends do, in
order to charm his solitude.
Our first stop was at Loc-Maria, an ancient monastery, given in olden
times by Conan III to the abbey of Fontevrault; it is situated a quarter
of a mile from the town. This monastery has not been shamefully utilised
like the abbey of poor Robert d'Arbrissel.[2] It is deserted, but has
not been sullied. Its Gothic portal does not re-echo the voices of
jailers, and though there may not be much of it, one experiences neither
disgust nor rebellion. In that little chapel, of a rather severe Romance
style, the only curious thing is a large granite holy-water basin which
stands on the floor and is almost black.
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