'But what is the meaning of this great liking for leeches?' I asked.

'Well,' replied my informant, 'I should tell you that the people about here
always used to be bled when they had anything the matter with them. But the
doctors will do it no longer, consequently we do it ourselves.'

The sad-looking peasants, with pale dark faces, whom I saw reaping their
meagre wheat on the outskirts of the village, seemed, like many more I had
met since I left Riberac, to be in much greater need of blood than leeches.
Women, wearing straw-bonnets of the coal-scuttle shape, were reaping with
men in the noonday heat. Upon all the burden of life appeared to press very
heavily. The chalky soil produced miserable crops of wheat, maize,
and potatoes that yielded no just return for the labour expended. The
luxuriance of the young vines, planted where the old ones had perished
from the phylloxera, showed that the hillsides here are better suited for
wine-growing than for anything else.

As I went on, the country became more sombre from the increasing number of
pines bordering the road and mingling with the distant forest. Very weird
pines these were, chiefly covered with closely-packed dead foliage, with
a living tuft of dark green at the end of each branchlet. A living death
seemed to be their lot, and they moaned without moving as the light wind
passed on its way.

But the descent towards the valley of the Isle had now begun. Huts built of
brick and mud and wood became frequent, with hedges of quince bordering the
gardens or little fields. Quite unexpectedly the river shone beneath me,
and by following its course downward I soon came to a large block of
scarcely connected buildings with high Mansard roofs. This was a monastery
of the Carthusians. I did not recognise it at once as the conventual