The day passed on and we approached Quimper.  We thought of Catherine and wondered what we should find awaiting us.  Much, according to her, that would be better avoided.  But as we drew near to the ancient town and saw, rising heavenwards, the beautiful spires of her cathedral, standing out in the romantic gloaming as an architectural dream against the background of sky, we felt that here would be our reward, come what else might.  The train steamed into the station; our day’s journey was over.  We must now part from our pleasant travelling companion.

“I hope not, for ever,” he said, as he bared his head on the platform, according to the polite custom of his country.  “We have some things in common; we see much from the same point of view; accident made me a Frenchman and a priest, and I would not have it otherwise; but I think that I could also have been very happy as an Englishman and a member of your Church.  Here I think that we meet half-way; for if I find myself so much in touch with an Englishman, you seem to me in still closer union with the French nature.”

Then he gave us his card and asked us if we would go and see him.

“Do not be afraid,” he laughed; “I will not try to convert you—­pervert, you would call it.  I think we are both too broad-minded to meddle with things that do not concern us.  Here, I am the guest of the Bishop, but he is absent, and will only return the day before my departure.  It is a pity, for he would charm you by many delightful qualities, though he may not be quite so tolerant as I.”

We parted with an understanding that it was to meet again, and went our different ways.  We consigned our traps to the omnibus, H.C. for once trusting his precious treasures out of sight, but retaining his umbrella with all the determination of an inquisitor inflicting torture upon a fellow mortal.  A short avenue brought us to the river, which flowed through the town, and, not without reason, had been condemned by Catherine.  We crossed the bridge and went down the quay.  It was lined with trees, and in fine weather is rather a pleasant walk.  The chief hotels of the town are centred here, and some of the principal shops and cafes.  It is fairly bustling and lively, but not romantic.

We had been recommended to the Hotel de l’Epee as the best in Quimper, and soon found ourselves entering its wide portals; a huge porte-cochere that swallowed up at a single mouthful the omnibus and the piled-up luggage that had quickly followed us from the station.

Ostlers and landlord immediately came forward with ladders and other attentions, and we were soon domiciled.