"The village of Blémur, blessed Virgin! but you will never get there before the black night, monsieur, though you have got a famous little horse there," said the _fermière_, as she examined Black with the eye of a connoisseur. "Must I follow the highroad of the forest to go to Blémur?" "Straight ahead, monsieur; one way you go to Blémur, and the other way to the château de Serval, and it is three good leagues, they say so at least, for I haven't been very long in this part of the country." "Then you will allow me, madame, to wait here under the shed until the shower is over?" "I can do better than that, monsieur; you will be much better off here in the house, come in if you please." "I will be very glad to accept your offer, madame, though seeing such a beautifully kept shed, I could easily fancy myself in a salon." This compliment pleased Madame Kerouët immensely, for she said, in an important way: "Ah, _dame!_ that is the way we always keep our farms in our Brittany." All the while I was talking with the _fermière_ I had not taken my eyes off the little window in the tower; several times I fancied I saw a white hand cautiously push aside some branches of the verdure which covered the window. Madame Kerouët preceded me into the farmhouse. I tied up Black, and followed the good woman into her home. To the left of the entrance door was a kitchen ornamented with all its accessories of copper and tin, which two strong peasant girls were busily scouring and which shone like gold and silver. On the right we entered a great chamber, where there were two beds with twisted columns hung with curtains of green serge which were embroidered in red. These two beds were separated by a high chimneypiece where a good fire of pine cones was flaming. On the mantelpiece the only ornaments were an old looking-glass with its frame of red lacquer, and two wax statuettes under glass shades,--a St. John with his lamb, and a St. Genevieve with her fawn. Between the two windows with their little diamond panes there hung on the wall an antique clock called a cuckoo; it was of gray wood painted with pink and blue flowers, and its two weights hung down on two cords of unequal length. There was a spinning-wheel, a great armchair covered with tapestry, which was sacred to the mistress, a chair for Desdemona, two stools for the servant-maids, and a dresser loaded with faience. These articles, with a round, well-waxed walnut table, completed the furniture of the room, which served as a parlour, dining-room, and bedroom. From the diamond window-panes to the floor everything shone with cleanliness. From the brown beams which crossed the ceiling were hanging long garlands of grapes dried for use in winter, and the whitewashed walls were ornamented with a set of coloured engravings framed in black wood, which illustrated the story of the Prodigal Son.