On the south side was the Gothic college built by Anne of Brittany; and
here she and Francis the First lodged, when they came on a pilgrimage to
le Folgoet. It is a Gothic building of the fifteenth century, with an
octagonal turret of rare design; but its beauty is of the past. We found
it in the hands of the restorers, who were doing their best to ruin it.
Originally it harmonised wonderfully with the church, but soon the
harmony will have disappeared for ever.
Our carriage had gone on to the neighbouring town of Lesneven, to rest
the horses and await our arrival, leaving us free to examine and loiter
as we pleased. No one troubled us. The inhabitants were all away; or
sleeping; or eating and drinking; the scene was as quiet and desolate as
if the church had been in the midst of a desert.
But the time came when we must leave it to its solitude and go back into
the world--the small but interesting world of Brittany; the world of
slow-moving people and sleepy ways, and ancient towns full of wonderful
outlines and mediaeval reminiscences.
We took a last look round. We seemed alone in the world, no sight or
sound of humanity anywhere; the very workmen despoiling the Gothic
college had disappeared, leaving the mute witnesses of their vandalism
in the form of scaffolding and very modern bricks and mortar. Beyond was
a village street and small houses well closed and apparently deserted.
Nearer to us rose the magnificent church, with its towers and spire, all
its rich carving fringed against the background of the sky.
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