her eagerness to catch me. I dashed down the hill-I flew rather than ran—I rushed through rivulets, I jumped down precipices, nothing stopped me-I made light of a leap of a hundred feet. I have run very fast at times, but I never ran so fast before nor since; she, however, was gaining on me, in a few minutes more she would be up with me. It was very awful. A high cliff was before me, without hesitation I threw myself over it, death was preferable to slavery, and such slavery. I reached the shore in safety, but, horror of horrors! she came after me, and alighted unhurt on the shore. The ship was at some distance, but I plunged into the sea to swim on board. I now thought myself safe, for I had no idea that she could swim, but she could--and, oh Lord, after me she came blowing like a grampus. It takes my breath away even now to think of it. I struck out boldly; the water bubbled and hissed as I threw it aside. I told you I was a good swimmer, but so was she. On she came, and every instant I expected to feel my foot in her grasp. If a man can have any reason for being afraid, I surely then had one. We had swam a mile, and the brig was some way off: I hallooed to my shipmates, but they did not hear me. Louder and louder grew the blowing of the lady as she spluttered the salt water from her mouth; she was within a few yards of me, and in another minute I should have been captured, when a dark object passed close to me--it was my pet shark. There was a loud scream and a gurgling noise. A dreadful thought occurred to me-it I was safe, but the loving Oilyblubbina had been swallowed by the monster. She must have been a tough morsel, for after his performance he lay some time on his back utterly unable to move. revolution had taken place in my feelings I did not wish her death, I only wanted to run away from her, and I mourned her untimely fate. I, however, considered that my lamentations could not restore her to her afflicted family, so as soon as the shark had recovered I placed myself on his back and made him convey me alongside my ship. It was time for me to be off, for as I was throwing my leg across him I saw by the light of the moon the whole family rushing down the hill to plunge into the sea after me, and I doubt if he could have swallowed any more of them.

was too true.

A

"Thus was I delivered from one of the greatest dangers it has ever been my lot to encounter. When I got on board my shipmates welcomed me warmly, and sincerely congratulated me on my escape. The gale had abated, and as old Blowhard had been only waiting for my return to put to sea, we instantly made sail and stood out of the harbour with our faithful shark in company. I dare say to this day the Patagonian chief fully believes that we carried off his daughter, so in a certain sense we did, but not exactly in the way he supposes. Poor man, it was better that he should not. It was very dreadful."

Jonathan was silent; he emptied his tumbler, and took several long whiffs from his pipe.

"That is a wonderful story," exclaimed the barber; "I'm sure I should have fainted the moment I found she was running after me.

"I should like to have had a cut at that ox, though," observed the butcher; "they must have fine cattle in those parts."

"I never saw such big people as you describe when I was round Cape Horn," said the strange sailor; "in fact the whole story is as big-" and he whistled instead of finishing his sentence, but Jonathan did not answer him. He was meditating on the tragic fate of his loving Oilyblubbina.

THE PRINCESS ALC'HUEZ AND THE DESTRUCTION OF

KAERIS.

BY W. HUGHES, ESQ.

In the old time there was in Cornouaille a powerful king who was named Grallon. He was a man as courteous as any son of Adam, and he received at his court people of renown, whether they were nobles or plebeians. Unfortunately, he had for his daughter a princess of disorderly conduct, who, to escape from his superintendence, had gone to live at Kæris, some leagues from Kemper.

One day, when King Grallon hunted with his followers in a forest at the foot of the Ménéhom, they lost themselves, and all arrived at the hermitage of the solitary Corentin. Grallon had heard the holy man spoken of, and rejoiced at having been conducted to his residence, but his servants, who were dying of hunger, observed with a sorrowful look the poor cottage of the saint, and said one to another that they would be obliged to sup upon prayers.

Corentin, however, enlightened by God, divined their thoughts. He asked the king if he would not accept a collation, and as Grallon answered that he had eaten nothing since cock-crow, the saint called the cup-bearer and the cook to prepare a good meal after so long an abstinence.

He conducted them both to a well near the hermitage, and filled the king's golden pitcher, which the former carried, with water, cut off a piece of a little fish which swam in the spring to give to the second, and recommended both to lay the cloth for the king and his suite. But the cup-bearer and the cook began to laugh, and they asked him if they took the king and his court to be beggars, to dare offer them his fish-bones and his frog-wine.

Corentin told them not to make themselves uneasy about any thing, and that God would provide all things. They determined, in consequence, to do as he commanded, and, to their great surprise, the foresight of the saint realised itself; for, on the one hand, the water which had been drawn up in the golden pitcher changed itself into wine as sweet as honey and as hot as fire; whilst, on the other, the little morsel of fish had multiplied itself in a way to satisfy the appetite of twice as many guests as the king had in his train.

Grallon was apprised of the miracle by his officers, who showed him, as an additional wonder, the little fish, from which Corentin had cut a portion, swimming in the well so sound and so entire as if the knife of the saint had never touched it.

At that sight the King of Cornouaille was seized with admiration, and he said to the hermit,

"Man of God, your place is not here, for your Master and mine has forbidden the candle to be placed under a bushel. You shall quit this hermitage for Kemper, where I nominate you bishop; my palace shall serve you to dwell in, and the whole town will belong to you. As for

your disciples, I shall build them a monastery at Landevenec, and you yourself can appoint the abbot."

The king kept his promise; abandoned his capital to the new bishop, and went to reside at the city of Is.

This capital stood upon the space where you see at this day the Bay of Douarnenez. It was so large and so beautiful that by way of admiration the people of the olden time could find no better name for the chief city of the Gallaoued* than Par-is, that is to say, the equal of Is. It was built lower than the level of the sea and defended by dykes, the gates of which were opened at certain times to admit the ships to enter and depart.

The Princess Dahut, the daughter of Grallon always carried, suspended from her neck, the silver keys of the flood gates, which made the people call her the Princess Alc'huez, or more briefly Ahez.† As she was skilled in magic she had embellished the town with works which one could not expect from the hands of men. All the korigans of Cornouaille and of Gwened had come by her command to construct the dykes and to forge the gates which were of iron; they had covered the palace with a metal like gold (you must know that the korigans are clever false coiners) and surrounded the gardens with balustrades as brilliant as polished steel. It was the korigans who looked after the stables of Dahut, which were paved with black, red, and white marble, according to the colour of the horses, and took care of the port where they fed the sea dragons, for Dahut had subdued by her arts the monsters of the deep, and she had given one to each inhabitant of Keris, which served as a corsair to go and fetch from beyond the sea rare merchandises, or to reach the vessels of the enemy. There fore all these citizens were so opulent that they measured their grain with a silver hanafs.§

But riches made the vicious hard-hearted and cruel, the mendicants were driven from the town like wild beasts, and they would only have active people of good appearance, and clad in cloth or silk; Christ himself, if he had come in a linen dress, would have been repulsed. The only church in the town was so forsaken that the beadle had lost the key. Nettles had grown upon the sills, and swallows built their nests against the doors of the principal entrance. The inhabitants passed their days and nights in the public houses, dancing-rooms, and playhouses, entirely occupied in losing their souls.

Dahut set the example; it was a festival day and night in her palace. One saw arriving from the most distant countries gentlemen, and likewise princes, attracted by the rumour of her court. Grallon received them

The name given by the inhabitants of Lower Brittany to the inhabitants of the Upper, who speak the French language, and, by extension, to all the French. The Welsh name for the people of Gaul is Galiod, evidently one and the same word.

+ Good or bad, these etymologies of the name of Ahez and Par-is, are received in Brittany. The same people have a proverb which consecrates the latter. A baouë beuzet ar gwær a is, Ne deus cavet par da Baris.

Since the drowning of the City of Is, Its equal has not been found in Paris. It is evident that the dragons here traditionally spoken of were ships. The Scandinavians gave to their vessels the form of dragons, and they called them

drakars.

§ Hanaf, or, hanap, a Breton word, signifying a cup to measure grain or to fill a large vessel with water.

with friendship, and Dahut still better, for if they were young people of good appearance she gave them a magic mask with which they could at night meet her secretly in a tower built upon the side of the locks.

They remained with her till the hour when the sea swallows began to pass before the windows of the tower; then the princess bade them adieu very quickly, and in order that they might depart without being seen as they had arrived, she restored to them the enchanted mask, but this time it contracted of itself and strangled them. A black man then took the dead body, placed it across a horse like a sack of corn, and went and threw it down a precipice between Huelgoät and Poulaouën. This is indeed the truth, for at this very day during dark nights one hears at the bottom of the abbyss the lamentations of their spirits calling upon Christians to think of them in their prayers.*

Corentin, informed of all that was passing at Keris, had many times warned Grallon that the patience of God was at an end ;† but the king had lost his power, and lived alone in one of the wings of the palace, abandoned by all the world, like a grandfather who has delivered up his inheritance to his children. As Dahut was an unbeliever, she did not heed the threats of the saint.

Now one evening, when there was a festival at her house, a powerful prince, who came to see her from the extremity of the earth, was announced. He was a man of great height, cloathed all in red, and so bearded that one could perceive with difficulty his two eyes, which sparkled like the stars. He addressed to the princess a compliment in rhyme, so well turned that no baz valen of Cornouaille could compose its equal; then he began to speak with such spirit that the crowd was struck with wonder.

But that which, above all, astonished the friends of Dahut was, to observe how much cleverer the stranger was than them in wickedness. He knew not only every guilty crime which human guilt had invented since the creation in all the habitable globe, but all that would be invented until the very moment when the dead should rise from the tomb to be judged. Ahez, and the people of the court, acknowledged that they had at last found their master, and they resolved to take lessons from the bearded prince.

To make a beginning, the latter proposed a new kind of dance, which was no other than the reel danced in hell by the seven chief sinners. He ordered in for the purpose a piper whom he had brought with him; he was a little dwarf, clad in buckskin, and who carried upon his arm a binion, the pipe of which served him as a pen bas.

Scarcely had he begun to play, than Dahut and her people were seized with a species of frenzy, and began to turn round like a whirlpool in the

This popular belief still exists; one is shown not far from Kær Ahes, as Carhaix is called in Breton, the place where the daughter of Grallon caused the corpses of her lovers to be precipitated. Some antiquaries think that Ahez or Dahut much frequented that city, to which she gave her name Kær Ahes or the town of Ahes. An ancient paved road leads from the the Bay of Douarnenez to Carhaix, which proves at least that the relations were frequent between Kær-is and that city.

†There is an error in the popular tradition; all that is attributed to Corentin belongs to his disciple Gwenolé. See the legend of the latter, by Albert de Mor laix.

+ Bagpipes.

sea. The unknown took advantage of it to remove from the princess the silver keys of the flood-gates, and to make his escape from the entertain

ment.

During this time, Grallon was alone in his palace, situated in a retired place; he was occupied in a large obscure hall, and seated upon the hearth near an extinguished fire; he felt as if sorrow had fallen upon his heart, then of a sudden the great doors flew open from both sides. St. Corentin appeared upon the threshold, with a circle of fire around his brow, a bishop's crosier in his hand, and walking in a cloud of incense.

"Arise, great king," said he, to Grallon, "take those which are precious to you and fly, for God has delivered up this accursed city to the demon." Grallon affrighted, arose immediately, and called some old servants, and, after having secured his treasures, he mounted his black horse and departed in the train of the saint, who glided through the air like a feather before the wind.

At the moment when they passed the dyke, he heard a great moaning of the waves, and perceived the bearded stranger, who had taken the form of the demon, occupied in opening all the flood-gates with the silver keys taken from Dahut. The sea descended already upon the doomed city in cascades, and one could see the waves lifting their white heads above the roofs as if they mounted to an assault. The enchained dragons in the harbour bellowed with terror, for the animals also felt that their death had come.

Grallon wished to raise a shout of warning, but Corentin told him to fly, and he sprang forward in a gallop towards the shore. His horse traversed thus the streets, the squares, the cross-roads, pursued by the waves, the horse's hind feet being always in the surges. He passed in front of the palace of Dahut, when the latter appeared upon the steps, her hair loose like a widow; she sprang behind her father. The horse suddenly stopped and submitted, the water mounted to the knees of the king. Help, St. Corentin, help!" cried he, frightened.

46

"Shake off the sin which you carry behind you," answered the saint, "and, by the help of God, you will be saved."

But Grallon who, notwithstanding all, was her father, knew not what to determine. Then Corentin touched the shoulder of the princess with his bishop's crosier, she glided into the sea, and disappeared at the bottom of the gulf, called since then, Toul Alc'huez* or Ahéz. The horse thus delivered from his burden, advanced in front, and attained the rocks of Garrec, where one still sees the mark of his shoes.†

The king first of all fell upon his knees to thank Heaven, then he turned round towards Kær-is in order to judge of the danger which he had so miraculously escaped; but he sought in vain the ancient city of the seas; there, where there was a few moments before a port, palaces, such wealth, and thousands of people, one only saw a deep bay which reflected the stars, whilst in the horizon the red man stood upon the wreck of the submerged dyke, showing the silver keys with a gesture of triumph.

Many forests of oak have had time to spring up and to die since the

The hole or pit of Ahez-in Welch it would be Tull-Ahez.

†The country people still show the mark of the horse's hoofs on the rocks.