I breakfasted, as I told you I was about to do, with my friend and guide Mons. de Larenaudiere; who had prepared quite a sumptuous repast for our participation.  Coffee, eggs, sweetmeats, cakes, and all the comfortable paraphernalia of an inviting breakfast-table, convinced us that we were in well-furnished and respectable quarters.  Madame did the honours of the meal in perfectly good taste; and one of the loveliest children I ever saw—­a lad, of about five or six years of age—­with a profusion of hair of the most delicate quality and colour, gave a sort of joyous character to our last meal at Vire.  The worthy host told me to forget him, when I reached my own country;[166] and that, if ever business or pleasure brought me again into Normandy, to remember that the Maire de Tallevende-le-Petit would-be always happy to renew his assurances of hospitality.  At the same time, he entreated me to pay attention to a list of English books which he put into my hands; and of which he stood considerably in need.  We bade farewell in the true English fashion, by a hearty shake of the hands; and, mounting our voiture, gave the signal for departure.  “Au plaisir de vous revoir!”—­’till a turning of the carriage deprived us of the sight of each other.  It is not easy—­and I trust it is not natural—­for me to forget the last forty-eight hours spent in the interesting town of VIRE!

Our route to this place was equally grand and experimental; grand, as to the width of the road, and beauty of the surrounding country—­but experimental, inasmuch as a part of the route royale had been broken up, and rendered wholly impassable for carriages of any weight.  Our own, of its kind, was sufficiently light; with a covering of close wicker-work, painted after the fashion of some of our bettermost tilted carts.  One Norman horse, in full condition of flesh, with an equal portion of bone and muscle, was to convey us to this place, which cannot be less than twenty-two good long English miles from Vire.  The carriage had no springs; and our seat was merely suspended by pieces of leather fastened at each end.  At Conde, about one-third of the distance, we baited, to let both man and horse breathe over their dinners; while, strolling about that prettily situated little town, we mingled with the inhabitants, and contemplated the various faces (it being market-day) with no ordinary degree of gratification.  Amidst the bustle and variety of the scene, our ears were greeted by the air of an itinerant ballad-singer:  nor will you be displeased if I send you a copy of it:—­since it is gratifying to find any thing like a return to the good old times of the sixteenth century.

  VIVE LE ROI, VIVE L’AMOUR.