It was thus composed: A light, remote, translucent distance was lost in infinitude--a peninsula, a desert waste of waters with ribs of shore, tongues of land planted with trees repeated in the mirror of the lake; on the horizon the sun, half set, cast its beams reflected by the sheet of waters; that was all, but amazing placidity and calm, a sense of fulness was shed over all. The idea of justice, to which that of mercy answers as its inevitable echo, was symbolized in the serene solemnity of this expanse lighted up by the glow of a kindly season and mild atmosphere. Durtal drew back to get a more complete view of the work as a whole. "There is no denying it," said he; "this artist has the instinct, the subtle sense of aerial space, of expanse; he understands the soul of calm waters flowing under a vast sky! And then, this print diffuses emanations as from a Catholic, which steal into us, slowly soak into our heart. "And by this time," said he, closing the portfolio, "I am far enough away from the original matter, and none the nearer to any article I can write for the _Review_. A paper on the primitive German painters would, indeed, be quite in its line; yes, but what an undertaking! I should have to work up my notes, and after dealing with Meister Wilhelm, Stephan Lochner, and Zeitblom, to speak of Bernhardt Strigel, an almost unknown painter, of Albert Duerer, Holbein, Martin Schongauer, Hans Balding, Burgkmayer, and I know not how many more. I should have to account for whatever may have survived of orthodoxy in Germany after the Reformation; to mention, at any rate, from the Lutheran point of view, that extraordinary painter, Cranach, whose Adams are bearded Apollos of the complexion of a Red Indian, and his Eves slender, chubby-faced courtesans, with bullet heads, little shrimps' eyes, lips moulded out of red pomatum, breasts like apples close under the neck, long, slim legs, elegantly formed, with the calf high up, and large, flat feet with thick ankles. "Such a treatise would carry me too far. It is amusing to dream over, but not to write. I should do better to seek a less panoramic, a compacter subject. But what?--Well, I will see later," he concluded, getting up, for Madame Mesurat jovially announced that dinner was ready. CHAPTER XIII. To change his weariness of the place, Durtal one sunny afternoon went to the further end of Chartres, to visit the ancient church of Saint Martin du Val. It dated from the tenth century, and had served as the chapel by turns of a Benedictine House and of a Capuchin convent. Restored without any too flagrant heresies, it was now included in the precincts of an Asylum, and was reached by crossing a yard where blind folk in white cotton caps sat nodding on benches in the shade of a few trees.