hours before us through North Brittany; for Brittany is a
hundred years behind the rest of France, and however slow the trains may
be in Fair Normandy they are still slower in the Breton Provinces. In
due time we reached Dinan, when we joined the train that had come round
from St. Malo.

Nothing in Brittany is more lovely and striking than the situation of
Dinan. It overlooks the Rance, and from the train we looked down into an
immense valley.

Everywhere the eye rested upon a profusion of wild uncultivated verdure.
The granite cliffs were steep and wooded. Far in the depths "the sacred
river ran." A few boats and barges sailing up and down, passed under the
lovely viaduct; Brittany peasant girls were putting off from the shallow
bank with small cargoes of provisions, evidently coming from some
market. Under the rugged cliffs ran a long row of small, unpretending
houses, level with the river; a paradise sheltered, one would think,
from all the winds of heaven: yet even here, no doubt, the east wind
finds a passage for its sharp tooth to warp the waters.

[Illustration: ST. MALO.]

Further on one caught sight of an old church, evidently in the hands of
the Philistines, under process of restoration, and an ancient
monastery. The town crowned the cliffs, but very little could be seen
beyond churches and steeples. We left it to a future time.

The train went through beautiful and undulating country until it reached
Lamballe, picturesquely placed on the slope of a hill watered by a small
stream, and crowned by the ancient and romantic ruins of the Castle
which belonged to the Counts of Penthievre, and was dismantled by
Cardinal Richelieu. A fine Gothic building, of which we easily traced
the outlines. The present church of Notre Dame was formerly the chapel
of the Castle.

Here we longed to explore, but it did not enter into our plans. So,
also, the interesting town of Guingamp had to be passed over for the
present.

For we were impatient to see Morlaix. Having heard much of its
picturesqueness and antiquity, we hoped for great things. Yet our
experiences began in an adventurous and not very agreeable manner.

Darkness had fallen when we reached the old town, after a long and
tedious journey. Nothing is so tiring as a slow train, which crawls upon
the road and lingers at every station. Of Morlaix we could see nothing.
We felt ourselves rumbling over a viaduct which seemed to reach the
clouds, and far down we saw t