So I hired a motor and wandered down into Brittany alone.

I wanted to be alone.

I was motoring along, when a violent storm came on, furious rain and wind, and just at the worst and weirdest moment, I passed Heronac, which is a few hundred yards from the edge of the present village.

It stands out in the sea on a great spur of rock, entirely separated from the main land by a deep chasm about thirty feet wide, over which there was then a broken bridge which had once been a drawbridge.

It was a huge, grim ruin with only a few roofed rooms, built in about the thirteenth century originally, and of course added to and modernized.