The sighing of the pines added to the sadness of the
land, for these trees now appeared in clumps along the way-side, and the
storm-wind had begun to blow. The sun was shining obliquely through a
dun-coloured haze when I reached the village of Echourgnac in a
cultivated valley. Here the cattle and the green fields were signs of
the cheese-making industry carried on at the monastery. The conventual
buildings were now visible on the top of the neighbouring hill, with the
church spire higher against the sky than all the rest. I made my way
towards this little fortress of asceticism hidden from the world amidst the
woods and marshes.
I had made up my mind to spend the night with the Trappists, even if I was
obliged to accept their charity and to allow myself to be classed with
those tramps who have no literary pretext for their vagabond ways. Indeed,
I had been given to understand by all to whom I had spoken on the subject
in the district, that the reverend fathers gave money sometimes to the
wayfarer, but accepted none in return for food and shelter. That part of me
in which the conventional is concentrated said: 'Stop at the inn;' but the
other part, which has the curiosity and the errantry of the man who has
never been perfectly civilized, said: 'Go on, and whatever happens pass the
night with the Trappists.
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