It was a huge dark cavern, where coals and other fuel were heaped in all directions; long aisles seemed to diverge from it with low arches leading further into the building, and apparently descending.

A small, pointed window at the back just gave light enough to show its retreats, and we became convinced that this was one of the very places where of old our Protestant brethren were accustomed to meet to exercise their religion.

It answered precisely to a description I had read of one of them, situate beneath the ramparts, and it was a great comfort in our emergency to think that we had thus discovered a secret haunt which must otherwise have escaped us.
The owner of the shed, or a workman, soon arrived, and seemed somewhat amused, as well as astonished, to see how we had taken possession of his grot; we had not Imogen's excuse-- "Before I entered here I called;" but he gave us welcome, nevertheless, till the storm disappearing, as suddenly as it had arrived, we were able to pick our way home to Les Trois Chandeliers.
One of the least agreeable things which we encountered in our inn, was the manner in which our dinners were conducted; we were not allowed the privilege, which we generally claimed, of dining in our own apartments; but were given to understand that at the _table d'Hote_ we should meet with the best attendance and entertainment.

Accordingly, we became guests in the fine _salon_ I have before described, where a party were assembled in solemn silence, as if a serious meeting, instead of one somewhat lively, was on the _tapis_.

The cross-looking, silent damsel of the huge square cap slowly placed the dishes on the table, and every one sat down; but not a single individual, male or female, attempted to help his neighbour to anything; not a word was spoken, except in whispers; and very soon she of the square cap began to remove several of the untouched viands; as the soup, for which we had ventured to ask, was particularly bad, we did not interfere to prevent this proceeding.