I was not to
attempt the road to Brune-Farine - that is, 'Whole-Meal Farm' - as I had
first intended, foolishly trusting a map, but to take a gully she
would show me, and follow it till I reached the river.
She came out,
and led me steeply across a hanging pasture; all the while she had
knitting in her hands, and I noticed that on the levels she went on
with her knitting. Then, when we got to the gully, she said I had but
to follow it. I thanked her, and she climbed up to her home.
This gully was the precipitous bed of a stream; I clanked down
it - thousands of feet - warily; I reached the valley, and at last, very
gladly, came to a drain, and thus knew that I approached a town or
village. It was St Ursanne.
The very first thing I noticed in St Ursanne was the extraordinary
shape of the lower windows of the church. They lighted a crypt and ran
along the ground, which in itself was sufficiently remarkable, but
much more remarkable was their shape, which seemed to me to approach
that of a horseshoe; I never saw such a thing before. It looked as
though the weight of the church above had bulged these little windows
out, and that is the way I explain it. Some people would say it was a
man coming home from the Crusades that had made them this eastern way,
others that it was a symbol of something or other.
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