a parish squire, no baron's castle, no manorial hall,--not even a
chateau to overshadow the modest roofs of the dealers in the linen
of the Vosges.

And the scenery round Granpere is very pleasant, though the
neighbouring hills never rise to the magnificence of mountains or
produce that grandeur which tourists desire when they travel in
search of the beauties of Nature. It is a spot to love if you know
it well, rather than to visit with hopes raised high, and to leave
with vivid impressions. There is water in abundance; a pretty lake
lying at the feet of sloping hills, rivulets running down from the
high upper lands and turning many a modest wheel in their course, a
waterfall or two here and there, and a so-called mountain summit
within an easy distance, from whence the sun may be seen to rise
among the Swiss mountains;--and distant perhaps three miles from the
village the main river which runs down the valley makes for itself a
wild ravine, just where the bridge on the new road to Munster
crosses the water, and helps to excuse the people of Granpere for
claiming for themselves a great object of natural attraction. The
bridge and the river and the ravine are very pretty, and perhaps
justify all that the villagers say of them when they sing to
travellers the praises of their country.

Whether it be the sale of linen that has produced the large inn at
Granpere, or the delicious air of the place, or the ravine and the
bridge, matters little to our story; but the fact of the inn matters
very much. There it is,--a roomy, commodious building, not easily
intelligible to a stranger, with its widely distributed parts,
standing like an inverted V, with its open side towards the main
road. On the ground-floor on one side are the large stables and