imprisonment, or the galleys, weaving calico. I never in my life saw so
many demoniacal faces together.

The apartment in which these miscreants were assembled, was a hall about
one hundred feet long, by thirty-five or forty in breadth, and was adorned
with two rows of massy, antique pillars, resembling those which we find
in Gothic churches. From hence we proceeded to the subterranean chapel,
where are seen those prodigious columns upon which the weight of the
whole building reposes. The scanty light, which glimmers among these
enormous shafts, is just sufficient to discover their magnitude to the
eye, and to enable one to find his way among them. Having crossed this
chapel, we entered the quadrangular court, around which the cloisters,
supported by small, graceful pillars, of the most delicate workmanship,
extend. Here the monks used to walk in bad weather, contriving the next
day's dinner, or imagining excuses for detaining some of the many pretty
female pilgrims who resorted, under various pretences, to this celebrated
monastery. At present, it affords shelter to the veterans and gendarmes
who keep guard over the prisoners below.

From various portions of the monastery, we obtain admirable views of sea
and shore; but the most superb coup-d'oeil is from a tall slender tower,
which shoots up above almost every other portion of the building. Hence
are seen the hills and coasts of Brittany, the sea, the sandy plain
stretching inland, with the rivers meandering through it, and the long
sweep of shore which encompasses the Grève, with Avranches, and its
groves and gardens, in the back ground. Close at hand, and almost
beneath one's feet, as it were, is the barren rock called the
Tombelaine, which, though somewhat larger than the Mont St. Michel, is
not inhabited. Even this rock, however, was formerly fortified by the
English; and several remains of the old towers are still found among the