56

MONTEREAU

of its numerous inhabitants, who “ mur-“ tiered sleep.” In the morning I desiredto be called at three o’clock, and with afew clothes in my knapsack, my travellingcase at my back, and my gun, I walked offleaving the rest of my baggage to follow inthe voiture. Here the country began towear a different aspect: the vineyards closedown to the river, the waving crops of corn,and the hay-harvest just beginning to shedits perfume around, gave it an appearanceof cultivation hardly to be expected sosoon after the devastations committed bytwo plundering armies. By the assistanceof a good map, I found my w r ay acrossthe country to Montereau, a small townon the Seine , over which I was ferried,(for the bridges were destroyed by theFrench army in its retreat upon Paris )and late in the evening reached Ville-neuve -la-Guiard, where I found my creepingconveyance, which had halted there for thenight. The next morning, still keepingin advance, I passed through a rich fertilevalley to Sens, where I breakfasted. Thiswretched little town has a cathedral, which,