ving thrown our
bundles at the foot of the 'Michelettes,' we sat down side by side on
one of those ancient iron cannons corroded by five centuries of rain and
fog.

"Looking dreamily from the ancient stones to the sky, and swinging his
bare feet, he said to me: 'Had I but lived in the time of those wars and
been a knight, I would have captured these two old cannons; I would have
captured twenty, I would have captured a hundred! I would have captured
all the cannons of the English. I would have fought single-handed in
front of this gate. And the Archangel Michel would have stood guard over
my head like a white cloud.'

"These words and the slow chant in which he uttered them thrilled me. I
said to him, 'I would have been your squire. I like you, Le Mansel;
will you be my friend?' And I held my hand out to him and he took it
solemnly.

"At the master's command we put on our shoes, and our little band
climbed the steep ascent that leads to the abbey. Midway, near a
spreading fig-tree, we saw the cottage where Tiphaine Raguel, widow of
Bertrand du Guesdin, lived in peril of the sea.

"This dwelling is so small that it is a wonder that it was ever
inhabited. To have lived there the worthy Tiphaine must have been a
queer old body, or, rather, a saint living only the spiritual life. Le
Mansel opened his arms as if to embrace this sacred hut; then, falling
on his knees, he kissed the stones, heedless of the laughter of his
comrades who, in their merriment, began to pelt him with pebbles. I will
not describe our walk among the dungeons, the cloisters, the halls and
the chapel. Le Mansel seemed oblivious to everything. Indeed, I should
not have recalled this incident except to show how our friendship began.

"In the dormitory the next morning I was awakened by a voice at my ear
which said:

"'Tiphaine is not dead,' I rubbed my eyes as I saw Le Mansel in his
shirt at my side. I requested him rather rudely to let me sleep, and I
thought no more of this singular communication.

"From that day on I understood the character of our fellow pupil much
better than before, and I discovered an inordinate pride which I had
never before suspected. It will not surprise you if I acknowledge that
at the age of fifteen I was but a poor psychologist. But Le Mansel's
pride was too subtle to strike one at once. It had no concrete shape,
but seemed to embrace remote phantasms. And yet it influenced all his
feelings and gave to his ideas, unc