Down a little alley, across the river, directly opposite the church, Miss Blunt discovered a suitable spot for a sketch, [Footnote:  Unhappily this sketch was afterwards lost, so cannot be reproduced] and on the production of materials and a chair from a neighbouring grocer’s she set to work, and in spite of the nearness—­we might say the “too odoriferous nearness “—­of a dust-heap, a drain, and a swarm of midges, she gallantly pursued her task till it reached a highly satisfactory termination.

Leaving the “ambrosial spot” (Jupiter save us!) we followed the road leading past the old market-place at right angles to the wooden bridge, and reached the church of Notre Dame.  Though more modern than the “Chapelle,” it is at least three centuries old, having been built on the ruins of the one originally erected in the 12th century.  The wooden reredos behind the altar, and other wooden carvings, seemed especially good, but the cure, jingling a bunch of keys, preceded by an abbe, seemed anxious to see us depart; so we prematurely left.  Strolling back through the town, and over the stone bridge that spans the Neste, we walked for a short distance on the other side, and then past the post-office and the Hotel du Midi, to our own quarters for dinner.  The Hotel de France, as it is called, is the best in Arreau, but is nevertheless not much more than a fairly large country inn.  The rooms are very clean, and the food good, but the arrangements are somewhat primitive; yet for all this we were very well satisfied on the whole, though the necessity of starting at nine o’clock next morning prevented us indulging in rhapsodies.

When we left the courtyard and passed through the back part of the town by the old church, the sky was still of the same lovely hue, though unhappily there was hardly a breath of wind.  Notwithstanding that Arreau is charmingly placed, and that the trees were fairly forward there, we soon found at a very slight increase of altitude that this was not to last; in fact, almost at once after passing Borderes (2-1/4 miles)—­an old village with a castle of Jean V., a change was apparent.  Two miles further brought us to the insignificant hamlet of Avajan, and another three of continual ascent to the outskirts of Louderville (3280 ft.), with its old watch-tower (14th cent.) and cool cascade.  Here we had a fine view of the valley below, and passed fields covered with oxslips, cowslips, and other flowers; while lower down, meadow after meadow was whitened by the lovely wild narcissus.  Following at a very easy pace the long zigzags (two hours and a half from Arreau), we reached the highest point of the road at the Port or Col de Peyresourde [Footnote:  35 miles from Bigorre, n. from Arreau.] (5070 ft), whence the view, though much more limited than that from the Col d’Aspin, extends over the valleys of Louron and Arboust, and many snow-peaks as well.