Was he reading them a sermon on the imperative necessity of suppressing the feminine (?) vice of curiosity, which might lead them to venture out imprudently again into the danger just escaped and averted by his watchful vigilance? or was he explaining away his own apparent failure in courage lately shown them? Whichever it was, they lent him their ears--all but one hen, and she perhaps had formed the habit of making up her judgments independently on current events, without the aid of the masculine mind, for she peeped round the corner repeatedly at me, and finally, seeing I appeared to be a harmless individual enough, she, without consulting the cock, ventured to come and inspect, and remained, by my side with a modicum of caution, for some time. But to return. Underneath some of the elms, which back-grounded the vineyards, the bronze coinage of dead leaves lay thick in handfuls. Past them came slowly and musically, from time to time, a roomy cart; its big bell--note of warning of its approach--hanging in a sort of little belfry of its own behind the horse. Here, there would be a belt of tawny trees against one of dark myrtle; there, a wood, soft pink and russet, and in the midst of it, piled bundles of faggots. We had provided ourselves with our _second déjeuner_, but only the butter and bread and Médoc were beyond reproach; the Camembert had reached an uncertain age, and the ham had gone up higher! _Mais que voulez-vous?_ You can hardly expect a feast out of doors as well as indoors, a feast to the mouth as well as to the eye. And outside was the most royally satisfying banquet of colours that any eye could desire. Colours at their richest, contrasts at their completest period. Before reaching Coutras, you come again into the region dominated by poplars. And that they do dominate the district in which they appear, no one can doubt. Poplars give a peculiar character to the land; a special personal note to the scenery. They are atmosphere-making. Presently we came upon Angoulême, upon the slope of a hill; all white and red in vivid contrast. CHAPTER VII Then, a little later still, we arrived at the end of our journey--St. Emilion. At St. Emilion, the past insists upon being recognised, and, more than that, on being a potent factor in the present. The modern buildings are in evidence, right enough, but somehow they have an air of not being so much in authority as the ancient ones. Beside its splendid remains, which have lasted through many a long age, the present day town looks but a pigmy. Illustration: ANCIENT CONVENT DES CORDELIERS, S. EMILION. [_Page 93._