walnut trees by the post-house of la Frilliere, the horses dashed
forward with such speed that in a moment they gained the bridge built
across the Cise at the point of its confluence with the Loire. There,
however, they come to a sudden stand. One of the traces had given way
in consequence of the furious pace at which the post-boy, obedient to
his orders, had urged on four horses, the most vigorous of their
breed. Chance, therefore, gave the two recently awakened occupants of
the carriage an opportunity of seeing one of the most lovely
landscapes along the enchanting banks of the Loire, and that at their
full leisure.

At a glance the travelers could see to the right the whole winding
course of the Cise meandering like a silver snake among the meadows,
where the grass had taken the deep, bright green of early spring. To
the left lay the Loire in all its glory. A chill morning breeze,
ruffling the surface of the stately river, had fretted the broad
sheets of water far and wide into a network of ripples, which caught
the gleams of the sun, so that the green islets here and there in its
course shone like gems set in a gold necklace. On the opposite bank
the fair rich meadows of Touraine stretched away as far as the eye
could see; the low hills of the Cher, the only limits to the view, lay
on the far horizon, a luminous line against the clear blue sky. Tours
itself, framed by the trees on the islands in a setting of spring
leaves, seemed to rise like Venice out of the waters, and her old
cathedral towers soaring in air were blended with the pale fantastic
cloud shapes in the sky.

Over the side of the bridge, where the carriage had come to a stand,
the traveler looks along a line of cliffs stretching as far as Tours.
Nature in some freakish mood must have raised these barriers of rock,