CORNWALL'S WONDERLAND

by

MABEL QUILLER-COUCH. 

1914This e-text was prepared from a version published in 1914. 

PREFACE. 

With a vivid recollection of the keen enjoyment I myself found in thestrange and wonderful Romances and Legends of Old Cornwall, now sorapidly being forgotten; with a remembrance too of the numerous longand involved paragraphs--even pages--that I skipped, as being prosyor unintelligible, written as they were in a dialect oftenuntranslatable even by a Cornish child, I have here tried to presenta few of these tales in simpler form, to suit not only Cornish children, but those of all parts. 

M. Q. C. 

CONTENTS. 

 HOW CORINEUS FOUGHT THE CHIEF OF THE GIANTS. 

 THE GIANT OF ST. MICHAEL'S MOUNT. 

 THE LEGEND OF THE TAMAR, THE TAVY, AND THE TAW. 

 THE STRANGE STORY OF CHERRY HONEY. 

 THE FAIRIES ON THE GUMP. 

 THE FAIRY OINTMENT. 

 THE EXCITING ADVENTURE OF JOHN STURTRIDGE. 

 THE TRUE STORY OF ANNE AND THE FAIRIES. 

 BARKER AND THE BUCCAS. 

 LUTEY AND THE MERMAID. 

 THE WICKED SPECTRE. 

 THE STORY OF THE LOVERS' COVE. 

 THE SILVER TABLE. 

 CRUEL COPPINGER, THE DANE. 

 MADGE FIGGY, THE WRECKER. 

 HOW MADGE FIGGY GOT HER PIG. 

 THE STORY OF SIR TRISTRAM AND LA BELLE ISEULT. 

HOW CORINEUS FOUGHT THE CHIEF OF THE GIANTS

Long, long ago, when Cornwall was almost a desert land, cold, bleak, andpoor, and inhabited only by giants, who had destroyed and eaten all thesmaller people, Brutus and Corineus came with a large Trojan armyintending to conquer England, or Albion as it was then called, and landedat Plymouth for that purpose. 

These two valiant chiefs had heard strange tales of the enormous size ofthe people in that part of the island, so, like wise generals, beforeventuring inland themselves, they sent parties of their men to explore, and find out what they could of the inhabitants. The soldiers, who hadnever heard anything about the giants, went off very full of glee, andcourage, thinking, from the miserable look of the country, that they hadonly some poor half-starved, ignorant savages to hunt out, and subdue. 

That was how they started out. They returned nearly scared to death, rushing into camp like madmen, pursued by a troop of hideous monsters allbrandishing clubs as big as oak trees, and making the most awful noisesyou can possibly imagine. 

When, though, Brutus and Corineus saw these great creatures they were notin the least frightened, for, you see, they had already heard about them. So they quietly and quickly collected their army, reassured the terrifiedmen, and, before the giants knew what was happening, they marched uponthem, and assailed them vigorously with spears and darts. 

The giants, who were really not at all brave men, were so frightened atthis attack, and at the pain caused by the arrows and spears, --weaponsthey had never seen before, --that they very soon turned tail and ran fortheir lives. They made direct for the Dartmoor hills, where they hoped tofind shelter and safe hiding-places, and indeed, all did manage to escapeexcept one, and that was the great Gogmagog, the captain, who was so badlyinjured that he could not run. 

When Gogmagog saw his cowardly companions all running away, and leavinghim to do the best he could for himself, he bellowed and bellowed withrage and fear until the birds nearly dropped down from the sky withfright. After a while, though, he began to think he had better stopdrawing attention to himself, and look about for a means of escape, andthis was no slight task, for he could scarcely move a step, and his greatbig body was not at all easy to conceal. Indeed, the only means he couldsee open to him was to lie down in one of the great ditches which lay hereand there all over the land, and trust to the darkness concealing himuntil the soldiers had returned to camp. 

Alas, though, for poor Gogmagog's plans, the moon was at the full, andevery place was almost as light as by day. The Trojan soldiers too wereso excited and pleased with their giant-hunting, that they could not bearto give it up and return to camp until they had at least one giant to takeback as a trophy. So they prowled here, and prowled there, until at lastthey caught sight of the great bulky body stretched out in the ditch. 

Gogmagog, of course, had no chance of escape, he was surrounded andcaptured, and bound, and the Trojans, rejoicing greatly, dragged him backa prisoner to their camp on Plymouth Hoe. Here, although he was carefullyguarded, he was treated with great kindness, fed bountifully, and nurseduntil his wounds were healed. 

When at last he was quite recovered, Brutus, who was very anxious to cometo terms with the giants, discussed with him various ways of settling thequestion they had come with their army to decide, namely, who should bethe possessor of the country. He proposed this plan, and that plan, andthe other, but none seemed to please Gogmagog, and while the generaltalked and talked, and tried to come to terms, Gogmagog just sat stolidlylistening, and only opening his great mouth to disagree with the general'sproposal. The truth was, the giant had a great idea of his own cunning, and he was trying to think of some way by which he could get the better ofthe invaders, and yet avoid further battles and discharges of arrows. "For, " as he said, "you never knew where you were with they things. They had done for you before you'd got time to turn round. Clubs or fistshe was equal to, but he didn't see no fun in they sharp little things thatstuck right into you, and wouldn't come out until they was cut out. "

Thinking of clubs and fists reminded him of wrestling, which was practiseda great deal in Cornwall, even in those days, and very little anywhereelse. 

"The very thing!" thought the wily giant, for it wasn't likely the Trojansknew anything about it, and even if they did, they were only little bitsof chaps compared with himself and the other giants. So, after a time, heproposed to Brutus that they should settle matters by "a scat towrastling, " the best man, of course, to have the country. 

Rather to Gogmagog's surprise Brutus agreed at once, and it was quicklysettled that the giant himself and the best man in the Trojan army shouldbe the two to try their skill. This man was Corineus, who accepted thechallenge instantly. 

After this the day was soon fixed, and Gogmagog was allowed to send andtell his friends, and bid them all come to Plymouth to witness the greatevent. The giants, being assured that no arrows or spears would be usedagainst them, came with alacrity, and both they and the Trojans were in awild state of excitement which increased and increased as the great daydrew near. 

At last the longed-for time arrived. A ring was formed on the Hoe, thegiants all sitting on one side, and the Trojans on the other, and thestruggle began. 

Oh, it was a fine sight to see two such men pitted against each other, the giant, the finest of his race, and the splendid, stalwart soldier, the enormous strength of the one faced by the skill and coolness of theother, to see them grapple each other and struggle for the mastery asnever men had struggled before in hand-to-hand warfare. Such a sight hadnever been seen in Cornwall until that day, nor ever will be again. It lasted long, and for long the result was doubtful. 

"Th' little un can't hold out much longer, mun, " cried one of the giants. "Cap'en's only playing with un yet. " But just at that very momentCorineus, who was playing a very clever game, dashed in unexpectedly, caught the giant by the girdle, and grasping it like a vice, shook theastonished and breathless monster with all his might and main. The giant, bewildered and gasping, swayed backwards and forwards at his mercy, atfirst slightly, then more and more, as he failed to regain his balance, until, gathering all his strength for one last effort, Corineus gave himone tremendous push backwards, and sent him clean over, so that hemeasured his great length upon the ground, and the country for miles roundshook with the force of his fall. 

Gogmagog gave one awful groan, which sounded like thunder all over theland, making the giantesses, who were left at home, exclaim nervously, "Oh dear, oh dear, there must be an earthquake somewhere! How veryunsettled the country is!"

Gogmagog was so stunned and breathless with his fall, that for some timehe could not collect his wits, or get up again, so he lay there moaningand puffing until his hard breathing had lashed the sea into fury. The other giants were too frightened to speak or move, for they were quitecertain there was magic being used against them, for strength alone couldnever have overthrown their 'Cap'en' like that, certainly not the strengthof 'a little whipper-snapper like that there Corinoos. '

While, though, they were staring open-mouthed, and the giant, neverexpecting another attack, lay there still puffing and blowing, and tryingto think how he could get off facing his opponent again, Corineus had beengathering up all his power to finish his task, and now, dashing insuddenly on his foe, he seized him by the legs, and dragging him to theedge of the cliff, he sent him, with one mighty push, rolling over andover down the sides of the steep cliff into the sea below. 

The fearful roar which broke from the giant's throat as he disappeared, the crashing and thudding of his body as it dashed from point to point ofthe jagged rocks, made even those hardened savages sicken and turn pale, but worst of all was the crash with which he came to the bottom, where hisbody struck a rock with such violence that it was dashed into a thousandpieces, and his spouting blood dyed the sea crimson for miles and milesaround. 

After that all turned away pale and sobered, the soldiers to their camp, the giants to their homes, their cowardly hearts full of terror of thesenew-comers, and the feasting they had promised themselves by way ofkeeping up their victory was postponed indefinitely. 

So ended the fight between the giant and the Trojan. It was not playingthe game, but the giants were too cowardly to demand revenge, or toattempt to punish Corineus, and so the land and all in it fell to theTrojans. 

Later, when Brutus had conquered all Albion, and was dividing some of itamongst his chiefs, Corineus begged that he might have the giant country, for he loved hunting the great lumbering fellows, and turning them out oftheir caves and hiding-places. So it was given to him, and he called itCornwall, because that was something like his own name, and in time hecleared out all the giants, and in their stead there settled there anhonest, manly people, who worked and tilled the land, and dug up tin, anddid everything that was good, and honourable and industrious, and this isthe kind of people who live there still. 

THE GIANT OF ST. MICHAEL'S MOUNT. 

I am sure most of you have heard of St. Michael's Mount, the strange, beautiful, mountain island, which rises up out of the sea down byPenzance; a mountain island with a grand old castle crowning its summit, and a picturesque group of cottages nestling at its base. 

If you have not, you must coax your parents to take you down there foryour next summer holiday, then you will be able to see the Mount, andvisit it too. And when you are on it you must think to yourself, "Now Iam standing where the Giant Cormoran once stood. "

You must look out over the sea, too, which surrounds the giant's Mount, and try to picture to yourself a large forest in the place of it, and thesea six long miles away, for that was how it was in Cormoran's time, untilone day the sea rose quite suddenly, a huge mountain of water, and rushingover the six miles of land, covered it and the forests too, even above thetops of the tallest trees. Everything for miles around was swallowed up, except the Mount, which was saved by reason of its great height. 

From that day to this the sea has never receded, and St. Michael's Mounthas remained an island, completely cut off from the mainland, except atlow tide, when you can, if you are quick, just manage to walk across. 

Years before this, Cormoran had built up the Mount for a home for himself. When first he came to the spot it was all forest, with one large whiterock in the midst of it. As he lay on this rock resting, he made up hismind to build himself a hill here, all of white rocks, like the one onwhich he reclined, where he could live in safety, and keep an eye on thesurrounding country. 

It was a big task he had set himself, for all the blocks of granite ofwhich it was to be made, had to be brought from a neighbouring hill, thoseclose by being of the pink, or green, or grey kinds, and he would havenone of these. Perhaps he would have changed his mind about it had he hadto carry all the stone himself, but he, the great lazy fellow, made hiswife Cornelian fetch all the heaviest blocks, while he lay idly by andwatched her. 

Cornelian, who thought the work was very hard indeed, did not see why thegreen rocks would not do as well as the white, they would be evenprettier, in her opinion, so one day when her husband was asleep sheknocked off a great green rock, and picking it up in her apron, hurriedback as fast as she could to get it fixed in its place before he shouldwake. She could not manage it though, poor soul, for just as she wasreaching her destination the giant opened his eyes, and as soon as he hadopened them he caught sight of the green rock she was carrying. Then, oh, what a temper he was in at being disobeyed! He did not sayanything, but he got quietly up from his resting-place as soon as she hadpassed, and followed her, but so softly that she did not notice anythinguntil he was close to her, when he gave her such a blow that she fellstaggering under it. Her apron-strings broke, down fell the green stoneto the ground, and there it has stayed from that day to this, for no humanpower has been able to move it. 

Cormoran was an old giant, and a very ugly one. He had only one eye, andthat was in the middle of his forehead; he had lost nearly all his teeth, too. It would have been better for his appearance had he lost them quiteall, for those that were left were broken, jagged, and discoloured, andwere anything but ornamental. He was a perfect monster to look at, and, oh, he was such a dreadful thief! All the people who lived anywhere nearhim went in terror of him, for when he was hungry he would just cross tothe mainland, steal the very best cow or sheep in the neighbourhood, sling it across his shoulders and go home with it. And as he was veryoften hungry, the poor farmer folks were nearly eaten out of house andhome by the bad old giant. 

On the Pengerswick estate near by, there were some particularly goodcattle, which Master Cormoran had taken a great fancy to, and to which hehelped himself pretty freely without ever being caught, or punished. Of course, the more he stole the bolder he got, for having so often gotoff scot-free, he grew to think he was always going to get off scot-free, and that was where he made his mistake. 

One day he took it into his head that he would very much like anotherof these fine, choice animals, so picking up a rope he started off, and wading across to Pengerswick Cove, landed there as usual, thinking hewas going to help himself without any trouble and be home again bydinner-time. 

It happened, though, that the Lord of Pengerswick had just returned fromthe East, where he had been learning all sorts of magic and spells. Cormoran, however, knew nothing of this, and if he had he would probablyonly have laughed and sneered, and turned up his great nose in scorn, for he believed in nothing but giants, and only in two of them, --himself, and the Trecrobben Hill giant. 

As Master Cormoran approached, the Lord of Pengerswick, who knew by meansof magic all about his coming, and knowing his thieving ways, determinedto punish the old thief for all the mischief he had done during hisabsence. So he began at once to work his spells, meaning to give thegiant a very unpleasant time. 

Cormoran, never dreaming of any trouble in store for him, landed as usual;but, somehow, when he reached the Cove he did not feel very well, his headfelt muzzy and confused: he thought perhaps the sun had been too much forhim as he came along. Instead, too, of catching one of the cattle atonce, as usual, he had the works of the world to get one, the beastsseemed as slippery as eels, and he was so dull in the head, he hardly knewwhat he was about. However, after a great deal of trouble, and losing histemper more than once, he managed to catch a fine calf, and tying its fourfeet together, he slung it round his neck, and prepared to hurry back tothe Mount to have a good feast. 

He walked, and he walked, and he walked as fast as his feet could carryhim, but though he went very quickly, and it was really no distance backto the Cove, he somehow could not get any nearer to the end of hisjourney; the path seemed all strange to him, too, and for the life of himhe could not tell where he was. 

At last, when he was so tired that he was ready to drop, he came in sightof a great black rock in Pengerswick Cove. It was a rock he did notremember seeing before, and thinking he was once again on the wrong pathhe turned to go back. But this, he found to his surprise, was what hecould not do. The rock, as if by magic, was drawing him nearer andnearer. It was like a magnet, and struggle as he would, he could not keepaway from it. He tried to turn round, he tried to draw back, he even laydown on the ground and dug his heels with all his strength into the sand. But still he felt himself being drawn on and on until he actually touchedthe rock, and the moment he touched it he found to his horror that he wasfastened to it as though by iron bands. 

Oh, how he struggled to get free, how he twisted and turned, and kicked!All in vain, though. He might as well have lain still and gone to sleepfor all the good he did. By degrees, too, he felt himself growing moreand more helpless, he could not move hand or foot, he grew colder andstiffer, and stiffer and colder, until at last he was as if turned tostone, except that his senses were more acute than ever they had beenbefore. To add to his torments, too, the calf which he had slung acrosshis shoulders, struggled and kicked and bellowed until the old thief wasblack and blue, and nearly deafened. He was nearly scared to death, too, for fear someone would hear the creature's noise, and come in search ofit, to find out what was the matter. 

He tried and tried to throw off his burden, but nothing would loosen it, and all the night long he had to bear the bleating and the bellowing inhis ear, and the incessant kicking and butting, for, for the whole of thenight the giant had to remain there; and probably he would have been therefor the rest of his life, had not the Lord of Pengerswick thought he wouldlike to have some more fun with him. 

Early in the morning the Enchanter mounted his horse and rode down to theCove to have a look at Master Cormoran, and to give him a piece of hismind before he removed the spell and let him go, and a piece of somethingelse as well! Cormoran quaked when he saw the old lord coming, for helooked every bit as angry as he really was, and first he lashed the giantwith his tongue, and then he lashed him with his whip, and he flogged himand flogged him until in his agony Cormoran kicked and struggled so hardthat he broke away from the rock and leaped right into the sea. 

This was the way the Enchanter removed the spell!

Once free from that terrible rock, Cormoran soon reached home, but thelesson he had had was one that he never forgot, and he never troubled thatpart of the country again, so the people all around had good cause tothank the Lord of Pengerswick. Poor Cornelian, his wife, had a sad timeof it, though, for so sore was the giant from his beating, and so angryand mortified, that his temper became something worse than ever. Indeed, I cannot find words to describe it. 

Poor Cornelian herself was very kind and good-tempered, and a veryhard-working giantess, and she was very much to be pitied for having sucha disagreeable, grumpy old husband. Cornelian, though, had one greatfault, and that was that she was very, very inquisitive. I do not knowthat she ever did any harm to anyone but herself by it. It brought abouther own death, though, in a very dreadful manner. And this was how itwas. 

Cormoran and the Trecrobben Hill giant were very friendly and neighbourlyone with the other, and they used to borrow and lend to each other anylittle thing they happened to want, just as ordinary people do who are onvery good terms with one another. 

One day Cormoran was wanting the cobbling-hammer to mend his boots, but the hammer was up at Trecrobben's, --they only had one between them. So he went out and shouted, "Halloa, up there! Hi! Trecrobben, throw usdown the cobblen hammer, wust-a?" They always threw across to each otherwhat they wanted. 

"To be sure, " called back Trecrobben; "here, look out and catch un!"

Hearing a lot of noise and shouting, Cornelian must needs bustle out tofind out what it was all about, and running from the dark house to thebright sunshine, her eyes were so dazzled, she did not see the greathammer coming hurtling through the air, as it did at that very moment, andwhack! crack! it caught her a terrible blow right between the eyes, evencrashing in the mighty bone of her forehead. 

Down she fell with a groan right at her husband's feet, and when he turnedher over she was as dead as the fatal hammer itself! Then what a to-dothere was! The two giants wept and roared over the corpse, they wrungtheir hands and tore their hair, but it was all of no use, they could notbring poor Cornelian back to life again. Their sighs and groans onlywrecked a ship or two out at sea, and blew the roofs off some houses atMarket Jew. So they stopped, and set to work to bury poor Cornelian. They thought it best to get her out of sight as quickly as possible, it made them weep so to see her lying there dead. 

Where they laid her, though, no one knows. Some say it was in the courtof the castle, others that they lifted Chapel Rock and put her under; butthere are others who say that they only rolled her over the edge of thecliffs and into the sea! You will always, though, find some people readyto say unkind things about everyone. 

Cormoran himself met his death some years later at the hands of Jack theGiant-Killer, but as you probably know that story, I will not repeat ithere. 

THE LEGEND OF THE TAMAR, THE TAVY, AND THE TAW. 

In the days when fairies, giants, and witches, gnomes and piskies, anddwarfs, and all the other Big People and Little People dwelt on the landor under it, there lived in a huge cavern, deep, deep down in the heart ofthe earth, two gnomes, husband and wife, busy, practical little people, who spent their lives digging and delving in the very bowels of the earth. 

They had no cravings for a more beautiful life, no desire to see thesunshine, the flowers, the green grass, or the wide blue sea. They wantednothing better, or beyond the life which had always been theirs. 

To them, though, there was sent a little daughter, whom they calledTamara. She was a lovely, golden-haired sprite, as unlike her parents asthe sun the night, and they were filled with happiness and pride, andwonder of her beauty. 

When Tamara was old enough, they would have set her to work with them, butTamara did not like the cold, dark cavern, or the silence and bareness ofher underground home. She was an earth-loving child, and had a passionfor the upper world, whither she would escape as often as she possiblycould, for the sun, the flowers, the birds, the happy life whichsurrounded her up there, were a never-failing joy to her. 

Her parents scolded and scolded; they warned her that the earth was fullof giants, and if she were captured by one of them, nothing could saveher; but she paid no heed to them at all, for she did not know what fearwas, she could not believe that anyone could harm her. And they hadpetted and humoured her, and allowed her her own way in so many things, she did not see why she should not do as she liked in this. 

She hated the cold, gloomy underground, so why should she stay there, she argued, and she ran away more and more to the upper world, and spenther days in roaming over the moors chasing the birds and butterflies, or, when she was tired, lying on a bank of moss and ferns, gazing up at theglorious sun, and basking in its kindly warmth. 

At length one day, Tawridge and Tavy, sons of two Dartmoor giants, metsweet Tamara as she was wandering amongst the furze and bracken, andstraightway fell in love with her. They had only seen giantesses up tothat time, who, though very fine and striking in appearance, are neverpretty, and these two young giants had never in their lives seen anythingso delicate and so lovely as Tamara, or dreamed that it was possible thatsuch beautiful maidens could exist. 

Straightway each of them lost his great big heart to the dainty maiden, and could not bear to lose sight of her. So afraid were they that shewould vanish, and they would never see her again, that they followed herfar and wide over the moor, trying to coax her to come and talk with them. But Tamara, like a laughing, mischievous sprite, ran from them laughing, led them over moor and river, always evading them, never letting themreach her. The more though that she tantalized and teased them, the morethe poor fellows loved her, and they sighed for her until their greathearts were like to break. 

One morning, Tamara got away earlier than usual from her cavern home. She awoke long before her parents, and after gazing for some time at thedarkness which filled the cave, and shivering in the chill, damp air, she thought of the upper world where the morning sun would be shining onthe dewy grass, and the birds be singing their first glad song; and as shepictured it all the longing to be up there grew stronger than she couldbear. She rose quietly, and without disturbing her parents, left her homefor the last time. 

In the upper world all was as she had pictured it, and lost in the joy andbeauty of it, Tamara wandered on and on until she came to a place calledMorwenstow, and a dainty little pool in the hollow of a rock. The sun wasso warm, and the pool so lovely, Tamara felt she must step into it; so, laying aside her robe, she played and swam about in the fresh clear wateruntil she was quite tired out, when she dressed herself in her robe again, and shaking her long golden locks to dry them, she lay down under theshelter of a hawthorn-bush, and soon fell fast asleep. 

Ah me! how sweet she looked, with her delicate cheeks so rosy after herbathe, her lovely lashes resting on them, her cloud of golden hair spreadall about her! and so thought Tavy and Tawridge when they came along andfound her! At the sight of her they stood speechless with admiration, butthe great stupid fellows were as quiet and careful not to waken her asfairies would have been. They just sat down near her and gazed and gazedat her with great faithful dog-like eyes. 

Presently a thrush began to sing hard by, and with a little stretch and asleepy sigh Tamara opened her big blue eyes. When she caught sight of herguardians and captors, she broke into a little rippling laugh and sprangto her feet, but this time she could not escape. 

"Do not leave us, " they pleaded. "We will not hurt you, Tamara. We maybe big and ugly, but we have good hearts. Have pity on us, lovely one, for you know how we worship you, and how our lives are spent in seekingyou. Such a love for you fills our hearts we know no rest away from you. "

They pleaded long and earnestly, those two love-stricken giants, theycalled her by every sweet and endearing name that they could think of, and Tamara listened, and made no further attempt to run away. Their devotion pleased her, it was so new and strange, and she loved tofeel her power. So the morning sped away. 

Deep down in the dark earth, the industrious little gnomes paused in theirlabours and wondered where Tamara was. "She does not often stay so long, "said the mother; "I trust no harm has befallen her. "

"What a trouble she is to us!" said the father, growing angry because hewas alarmed. "We should be glad we have no more children, or we shouldhave to spend all our time looking after them, to see they came to noharm. We should never have time for our work, and never know peace ofmind. "

"Yes, yes, " said the mother impatiently, "but Tamara! Where can she be?The earth is full of giants, and I am full of fears. I cannot rest, I must go and seek her, and you must come too. She is so beautiful, andso thoughtless and full of life. "

So they mounted to the upper world, and began their weary search for theirnaughty little daughter; and by and by they found her seated on a couch ofsweet, soft heather, between the two giants. They were still telling herof their love for her, --there was so much, it took long to tell, --andbeseeching her to choose one of them for her own faithful lover. 

The father gnome was very much alarmed at this sight, for what could he, no taller than a tulip, do against two such monstrous creatures?Their thumbs alone were as big as his whole body. All that was left to bedone was to appeal to Tamara, and each in turn, and both together, thefather and mother begged and commanded their runaway child to return toher home. 

But Tamara was as obstinate as could be. "No, I want to stay here, "she said, "these good boys love me, and they will break their hearts whenI leave them. You would not have me make them so unhappy, would you?I want, too, to hear all about their country and their people, for I loveit, and I love them, and I hate the cold, dark cavern, with its eternalwork, work, work!" Then she turned entreatingly to the giants, "You willnot let me be taken back, will you?" she cried, her beautiful eyes full ofappealing. 

"No, no!" they cried joyfully, "we will take care of you, little Tamara. "

Even, though, as they spoke, a deep sleep fell upon them. The gnome, thoroughly angry, had cast a spell upon them, and poor Tamara saw herselfin an instant deprived of both her protectors. She was deeply mortified, but more determined than ever not to go back to her dark, gloomy home. No pleadings, or coaxings, or commands had any power to move her. Her mother appealed to her, her father scolded, all in vain. Anger wasroused on both sides, until at length in ungovernable rage the fathercursed his daughter, and as his curse fell on her, the weeping girl waschanged into a crystal stream, which soon became a river; a beautiful, rapid river, for ever winding its way with a low, sad murmur, in storm orsunshine, through the land she loved so well, on and on to the great saltocean. 

The angry parents, heartbroken and desolate, had returned to their lonelyhome, and Tamara, with low, sad sighs, was fleeing further and furtherfrom her sleeping lovers, when Tavy at last awoke. He sat up and glaredaround him, too dazed to realize at first all that had happened. He looked at Tawridge, lying fast asleep, and recollection began toreturn, --he looked for Tamara, --she was gone!

In a frenzy of fear lest he should have lost his new-found love for ever, he rushed hither and thither, wildly searching for her, --but, of course, in vain. 

"Tamara! Tamara!" he called despairingly; no answer came. No soundreached him but the sweet, sad voice of a stream hard by, a stream he didnot remember to have heard before. He was too full of his troubles, though, to pay heed to such trifles now. 

Flying as fast as the wind to his father amongst the hills, he told himhis pitiful tale, but the giant already knew all that had happened, for hehad powers his son had not. 

"My boy, " he said sadly, "your Tamara is gone. Cruelly taken from you. I cannot bring her back to you, but I can send you to her. Grieved Ishall be to lose my son, but I cannot keep you here and see your lifefilled with endless pain. " Then the old giant kissed his son, and as hekissed him he turned him into a stream, which, noisy and turbulent as poorTavy himself had been of old, rushed madly on over rock and moor, seekinghis lost love. Wildly he dashed ahead, seeking to overtake her, until atlast in a gentle valley where she loitered slowly, he came upon her, and, happy that they had met at last, hand in hand they glided softly onwardsto the eternal sea. 

During all this time poor Tawridge slept on, dreaming of Tamara, that shewas his, and nothing could part them; but alas, alas for his waking!He opened his eyes and found it was but a dream! Tamara was gone, Tavy was gone, and he was left alone. 

"They have gone together!" was his first thought, but then he rememberedthe arrival of the father and mother, and his second thought was thatTamara had been taken back to her home by her parents, and that Tavy hadkilled himself in despair. And Tawridge was filled with a double grief, for he had really loved poor Tavy. 

In the hills there lived an Enchanter, and to him Tawridge ran for help, and of him he learnt the truth, --that both were lost to him, and weretogether. The knowledge drove him to frenzy. Without a thought for hisfather or mother, or anyone else who loved him, he begged and implored theEnchanter to turn him into a stream too, that he might follow the othersand overtake them, and once again be with his lost love, or near her. 

At last the old Enchanter consented, and Tawridge was turned into aswiftly flowing river; and there his troubles might have ended, and thethree friends have been reunited, but, as he was going back, Tawridgemistook the way, and, instead of flowing towards the sea with Tamara andTavy, he rushed on wildly seeking them in the wrong direction. Calling tothem with heartbroken cries and moans, he hurried faster and faster in hislonging to overtake them, but always in the wrong direction, ever and everflowing farther from them, never to meet his lost love again. 

To this day the Tamar and the Tavy run always side by side, and the Taw, still sighing and moaning sadly, rushes in the opposite direction, andnever can the enchantment be removed from Tamara and her lovers, until we, having grown better and wiser, become friends again with the Big Peopleand the Little People we have driven from us by our ignorance and narrowminds. 

THE STRANGE STORY OF CHERRY HONEY. 

Cherry Honey, with her father and mother, and a half-score of brothers andsisters, lived in a little hut at Trereen, in the parish of Zennor. They were very poor people, terribly poor, for all they had to live on waswhat they could get out of a few acres of ground that they owned, --groundas barren as any you could find thereabouts, and that is saying a gooddeal. For food they lived mostly on fish and potatoes, except on Sundays, when they had pork, and the broth it was boiled in; and twice a year, atChristmas and Feast-day, they had, as a great luxury, white bread. 

Whether fish and potatoes make people strong, or whether the air atTrereen was specially good, I can't tell, but sure enough it is that allTom Honey's children grew up into fine, handsome men and women, and notone weakly one amongst them. 

They were a lively crew too, as merry as grigs in spite of the cold andthe hunger that they felt pretty often, and the liveliest and merriest ofthe lot was Cherry. She was full of pranks and mischief, and led theothers a pretty life. When the miller's boy came to know if they wantedto send any corn to be ground, Cherry would slip out, mount his horse, which he left fastened up close by, and off she would go, racing as hardas she could go all along the very edge of the cliff, and away to theDowns, the miller's boy racing and yelling after her, but he might as wellhave tried to catch a will-o'-the-wisp. 

So Cherry went on very happily, working very hard and playing too, untilshe reached the age of sixteen or so, when she began to feel a wish to seemore life than that lonely moor provided, and have a change from the tinyhut which could not hold a half of them comfortably. She wanted a newgown too, her mother had promised it to her ever since she was thirteen, and she had looked forward to it even more than she did to Feasten-Sunday, for she had never had a new frock in her life. She could not enjoyFeasten-Sunday either, unless she was dressed as nicely as other girls. 

Year after year, though, she was disappointed, there was no money and nonew dress, and poor Cherry had to content herself with a clean apron overher shabby old frock, which had been patched and mended until there wasonly one piece of the original left, and no one but Cherry herself couldhave told which that was. 

She was not fit to go to church or to fair, and she felt it very hard thatshe could never enjoy herself. And then, to make matters worse, her greatfriend Tamsin Bray, who was a year younger than Cherry, had a beautifulfrock all trimmed with ribbons, and she wore it to Nancledry to thepreaching there, and had a fine time there, full of adventures and newexperiences, as she took care to tell poor Cherry when she came back, making Cherry feel more dissatisfied than ever. She knew she was aprettier girl than Tamsin, and would get more admiration if she only hadthe chance. 

After that Cherry could no longer go on bearing things as they were. If her mother couldn't buy her a new frock, she would go to work, and earnone for herself, she determined. So she told her parents she was going tolook for a situation, and nothing they could say could make her change hermind, so they gave up trying to. 

"Why don't 'ee try and get a place down to Towednack?" asked her mother, who wanted her not to go far from home. 

"Iss, fay, mother, " answered Cherry sharply, "a likely tale I'm going tolive in a place where the cow ate the bell-rope, and where they've nothingbut fish and taties all the year round, except Sundays, when they haveconger-pie! Dear no, I'm going where I can get butcher's meat sometimes, and a bit of saffern cake when I wants it!"

So Cherry packed up her few garments, which made but a very small bundle, and started off, after promising her father not to go too far, and to comehome soon. She had been so restless and uneasy, that the poor man thoughtshe was bewitched, or something. He feared, too, that she might getcarried off by pirates, for there were many of them about Cornwall inthose days, and Cherry was an attractive-looking girl, and rather flighty, as her mother often said. 

When Cherry had said 'good-bye' and kissed them all, and got outside, shehad not the slightest notion which way to go, so she took the road toLudgvan and Gulval, and walked on briskly enough for a time; but when sheturned round for a last look at the old home, and found that it was nolonger in sight, she felt so miserable that she had a very good mind toturn round and go back. It was the first time she had ever been away, and she felt very home-sick and lonesome. Indeed, the outlook was enoughto damp her spirits and even frighten her, for she had no friends to goto, nor a situation. She did not even know where she should find shelterthat night, and she had only one penny in her pocket. However, shestarted on again, and trudged along the lonely road until she came to thefour cross-roads on the Lady Downs. 

Here she paused again, and rested while she tried to make up her mindwhich of the four roads she should take. All around her the Downsstretched, looking bleak and wild; and all the stories she had ever heardof highwaymen and pirates, witches and fairies, came rushinghelter-skelter through her poor brain until she felt too terrified to walkon or to turn back; and at last she sat down on a big stone by the side ofthe road and burst out crying. 

She did cry too, most bitterly, and never stopped until she had made upher mind to retrace her steps, and go home as fast as she could go. Having settled that, she felt much happier, and drying her eyes shestarted up, only too anxious to get out of that great wilderness. She wondered if her brothers and sisters would laugh at her. Yes, shefelt sure that they would, but she did not care, she told herself. She would soon play them some trick that would make them laugh the otherside of their faces. Her father and mother would welcome her back gladly, she knew. 

So she turned her face towards home, and was trying not to feel ashamed ofher want of pluck, --when she saw a gentleman on the road just ahead ofher, and walking towards her. She was astonished, and just a littlealarmed, for a moment before there was not a soul to be seen. She was soastonished that she quite forgot her manners, and stood staring andstaring at the gentleman until he had come quite close to her. Then hestared hard at Cherry, but it was not a rude stare, and he took off hishat so politely, and smiled so pleasantly, that Cherry was quiteimpressed. 

"Can you tell me the way to Towednack?" he asked in a voice as pleasant ashis smile. 

"Yes, sir, " answered Cherry, curtseying. "If you'll please to walk alittle way with me, sir, I'll put you in the right road. "

The gentleman thanked her, and as he walked along beside her, he askedwhich way she was going, and where she lived, and he was so kind and hadsuch a pleasant way with him, that Cherry had soon told him her history, and how she had left home to go to look for a 'place, ' and how she hadfelt so lonesome on the Downs, and so home-sick, that she had changed hermind and was going straight back again. 

"Well, this is strange!" exclaimed the gentleman. "Of all the good luckthis is the greatest! I have come out to-day to see if I can find a goodactive girl in one of the villages, for I want a servant; and here I findjust what I am looking for, a handsome, sharp young woman, cleanly andhonest. "

He could judge for himself what sort of a girl Cherry was, by herappearance, and her clean, well-mended frock. 

He went on to tell her that he was a widower with one little boy, for whomhe wanted a nurse, and would Cherry come and take the post?

He talked for a long time very earnestly and winningly. Cherry did notunderstand a half that he said, but she understood enough to make her feelthat this would be a better situation for her than she had ever dreamed ofgetting, and before very long she consented to go. 

The gentleman seemed very pleased, and away they started together at once, the stranger talking very fast all the time, and making himself soentertaining that Cherry never noticed how far they were going, nor inwhat direction. 

They walked through such beautiful lanes that it was quite a pleasure tobe in them, hung as they were with honeysuckles and roses, and many otherbeautiful flowers, such as Cherry rarely saw anywhere near her bleak home. 

By and by the light began to fail, which rather surprised Cherry, who hadno idea the day was so far gone. She had no watch or means of telling thetime, so she supposed it was all right, and that she had sat crying longerthan she thought. Presently they came to a river, and Cherry wondered howshe should cross it, for it had grown so dark by that time she could notsee stepping-stones, or bridge, or anything. 

However, while she was wondering, the gentleman just picked her up in hisarms and carried her across, and then on they walked again. They wentdown, down and down a very steep lane now, a lane which got narrower andnarrower, and was so steep and long, Cherry thought it would never end. Not that she minded much, for she did not feel tired, and the gentlemanhad given her his arm, that she might not stumble, and she felt so excitedand happy she could have walked on through the sweet-scented darkness forever. 

She had not much further to go, though, for presently they came to a gatewhich the gentleman opened. "This is your new home, Cherry, " he saidkindly, and Cherry found herself suddenly in the most beautiful garden youcan imagine. It was full of lovely flowers and luscious fruits, whileflitting about everywhere, or perching on the trees, were birds of allsizes and colours, tiny blue birds, large scarlet birds, some that flashedlike silver, and gold, and beaten copper, in the sunlight. For oddlyenough the sun was shining brightly in the garden, though it had long beendark outside. 

Cherry stood and stared about her in open-eyed amazement. "Dear, dear, "she thought to herself, "'tis just like the fairy-tales Gammer tells uswinter evenings!" and she began to wonder if she could have got into anenchanted place, and if she should presently see fairies, or enchantedpeople there. But no, it could not be any fairy-tale, for there was hernew master standing by her as big as Farmer Chenoweth, and down the pathcame running a little boy, calling "Papa! papa!" just as any ordinarymortal child would. 

Though, as Cherry said afterwards, there was something uncanny about thechild, for he had such an odd, old face and expression, and eyes ascunning as might be, and so bright and piercing they seemed to look youthrough and through; yet he appeared to be no more than four years old. 

Before the child could reach them, an old woman came running out afterhim, and seizing him by the arm dragged him roughly back to the house. She was a bony, ill-tempered looking old woman, and before she retired, grumbling at the child and shaking him, she favoured Cherry with such anevil glance that the poor girl felt more than half inclined to turn andrun right away. 

"That's my late wife's grandmother, " explained the widower; "she is across-grained old catamaran, and the reason she eyed you so unpleasantlyis that she knows I have brought you here to take her place. Make hasteand learn your work, Cherry, for I want to send the cross old dame abouther business, " which was hardly a respectful way in which to speak of hisgrandmother-in-law. 

He took Cherry into the house, which was even more beautiful than thegarden; brilliant light, like sunshine, lighted up every room, flowersgrew everywhere, mirrors and pictures lined the walls, and as for theornaments, the carpets, curtains and other beautiful things, you couldnever believe what their beauty was unless you could see them. 

"It is all so grand, " said Cherry to herself, "'tis too much to take inall at once. It makes my head swim, and I'd like something to eat for achange. " She was really very, very hungry, for she had had nothing to eatall day but a slice of bread and treacle. 

Hardly had the thought come into her head, when Aunt Prudence, --as the oldgrandmother was called, --began to lay a table with all kinds of deliciousfood, to which she bade Cherry sit down and eat. 

Cherry did not require a second bidding, you may be quite sure, nor didshe stop until she had made a very good meal indeed. After that she wastold her duties. She was to sleep in the room with the child, and in themorning to take him and bathe him in a spring in the garden. After shehad bathed him she was to anoint his eyes with some ointment she wouldfind in a little box in a cleft in the rock. She was to be very carefulindeed to put the little box back where she took it from, and on noaccount to touch her own eyes with it. After that was all done she was tomilk the cow, and give the child a basin of the last milk she drew. 

You can imagine how all this raised Cherry's curiosity, and how she longedto get the little boy to tell her about everything, but, as he alwaysthreatened to tell Aunt Prudence, directly she asked him a question, she thought it better to hold her tongue, and try to find out things forherself. 

When she had been told all her duties, she was conducted to her room bythe old lady, who bade her keep her eyes shut, whether she was asleep ornot, or she might wish too late that she had. She forbade her, too, totalk to the child about anything. So Cherry was rather frightened by thetime she got to bed, and until she fell asleep she kept her eyes and hermouth fast closed, but fortunately, thanks to her tiring day and her goodsupper, she did not stay awake long. 

The next morning as soon as she was awake she got up and began her work, but when she had bathed the boy in the stream to which he led her, and hadput the ointment on his eyes, she did not know how to set about her nexttask, for there was not a cow to be seen anywhere. 

"Call her, " said the boy, when she told him her trouble. So Cherrycalled, "Coo-o, coo-o, coo-o-o, " just as she did at home, and at once apretty sleek cow came from somewhere, --it might have been out of theground, as far as Cherry could tell. Anyhow, there she was, and Cherrysat down and milked her, and gave the boy his breakfast, and when she haddone the cow walked away again and disappeared. 

After that Cherry went indoors, where the Grandmother provided her with abig breakfast all to herself, after which she told her of some more of herduties. Cherry was to keep in the kitchen, and clean the pots and panswith water and sand, scald the milk, make the butter, and do anything elseshe was told. Above all she was to avoid curiosity, to keep to thekitchen, and never try to enter or look into a room that was locked. 

Cherry felt that this was very hard, for, as I said before, she was fullof curiosity, and wanted to find out all she could about these strangepeople she had got amongst. She could scarcely endure old Aunt Prudencewith her scoldings and growlings, for the old woman never ceased grumblingat both the girl and her grandson-in-law for bringing her there. 

"I knew Robin would bring some stupid thing from Zennor, " she would say, and she would scowl at Cherry until the girl grew quite nervous. She tried to get as far away from the old woman as she could, but, asCherry said, the old soul seemed to have eyes all over her head, for shealways had one on Cherry, no matter where she was or what she was doing. 

The happiest time of Cherry's life here was when her housework was done, and her master called to her to come and help him in the garden; for hewas always kind and gentle to her, and always rewarded her with a word ofpraise. 

Aunt Prudence, though, was not always a cross old tyrant; she had herkinder moods, and in one of them she told Cherry that if she was a goodgirl, and did her work quickly, she would take her into those parts of thehouse where she had been forbidden to go, and show her some of thewonderful sights of the place!

Oh, how delighted Cherry was, and how she did hurry through her work!She felt that now she was going to be made happy for the rest of her life, and would have nothing left to wish for. She got through her work soquickly, that it was still quite early when they started off together ontheir sight-seeing. 

First of all they came to a door opening out of a passage, and here AuntPrudence told Cherry to take off her shoes. This done, they opened thedoor and entered, letting it fall silently behind them. The passage wasvery low and very dark, and Cherry, who had to feel her way by the wall, felt rather nervous, for she could not see where her next step would takeher. Before very long, though, they came to a room where the light wasbright, it was a beautiful room, with a floor like glass, but, oh, howfrightened Cherry was when she stepped into it! for ranged all round thewalls, on shelves or on the floor, were a lot of people turned to stone. Some had no arms, others no legs, while of others there were only the headand shoulders. Some heads had no ears, others had no noses, and some fewwere without either. 

Oh, it was a horrid sight, and Cherry was terribly frightened lest theyshould all come to life suddenly, and set on her and tear off her limbstoo. She told Aunt Prudence, "she was mortal fear't of 'em, for she'dheard tell on 'em up to Zennor, and everybody said there was never noknowing what they wouldn't be up to. She'd thought all along that she'dgot in with the Little People, only her master was such a fine upstandingman, she'd never have took him for a fairy. "

Aunt Prudence only laughed at her, and seeing that she really was afraid, took a greater pleasure in making her go further. There was acurious-looking thing standing in the room, like a coffin on six legs, andthis Aunt Prudence insisted on Cherry's giving a good polishing to. So Cherry had to set to and rub it with all her might and main, for shedared not disobey the old lady; but the more she rubbed the more the oldlady scolded her to rub harder, and Cherry rubbed harder and harder andharder, until at last she nearly upset the thing. She threw out her armsand seized, but as it tottered it gave out the most soul-piercing, unearthly yell it was possible for anyone ever to hear. 

"They'm coming to life! They'm coming to life!" shrieked out Cherry, andfrom sheer fright she fell on the floor in a fit. 

All this noise and uproar reached the master's ears, and up he came, to know what it was all about. And oh, he was angry when he found out. First of all he ordered old Aunt Prudence out of the house then and there, and then he picked up Cherry and carried her to the kitchen, where he soonbrought her to her senses again, but, strangely enough, she could notremember what had happened, or why she was there. Her memory of what shehad seen had quite gone, and though she was always afraid, after that, togo into that part of the house again, she could not remember in the leastwhy it was, or anything that had happened there. 

Cherry felt much happier now, and did not worry herself about it, for AuntPrudence and her terrifying eye were gone, and she was left sole mistress. So time passed on, and Cherry's master was so kind to her that the daysflew by like hours, and very soon a whole year was gone. 

During all this time she had never once thought of her home, or herparents, or her old life. She had everything she could wish, and youwould have thought she was bound to be happy; but no, nothing of the sort!She soon grew accustomed to her happiness, and then she began to want thethings she had not got. Her curiosity increased every day. She longed toknow more about the mysterious part of the house, and a hundred otherthings that she should never have troubled her head about. 

She was particularly anxious to find out all about her master, for hismovements were certainly very strange, and puzzled Cherry. He went offevery morning soon after his early breakfast, and when he came back heshut himself into the room where the stone figures were, and Cherry wascertain, for she had crept up and listened at the door, that she couldhear him talking to them!

What _could_ she do to get to know more, she wondered. She thought andthought, and then one day her thoughts flew to the ointment. She hadoften noticed how very bright and peculiar the little boy's eyes becameafter she had anointed them, and that he often seemed able to see thingsthat were hidden from her. 

Cherry grew very excited, she felt sure she had discovered the secret. So the next morning, after she had bathed him and given him his breakfast, she sent him away to play for a few minutes, and whisking out the ointmentpot again, she brushed the least bit of it over one of her eyes with thetip of her finger. 

Oh, how it burned and smarted! and oh, how she did rub her eye and try toget the nasty stuff out! But it would not come. She ran to the streamand knelt down to bathe it, --and as she knelt and looked in the water shesaw, at the very bottom, dozens and dozens of little people, playing anddancing, and enjoying themselves as though they were on dry land. And there, too, as gay as any, and as small as any, was her masterhimself. Bewildered and frightened, Cherry sprang to her feet, but as sheturned to run she saw everything was changed. There were Little Peopleeverywhere, hanging on the trees overhead, swarming over the ground at herfeet, swinging on the flowers, some astride the stalks, others curled upin the cups, all exquisitely dressed, and flashing with gold and jewels;and all as merry as crickets. 

Cherry thought she was bewitched sure enough, and she was so frightenedshe did not know what to do. 

At night back rode her master, as big and handsome as ever, and veryunlike the little piskyman she had seen at the bottom of the water. He went straight up to the locked-up room where the stone figures were, and very soon Cherry heard sounds of most lovely music issuing thence. So things went on day after day, the widower rode off every morningdressed as any ordinary gentleman would be to follow the hounds, and nevercame back again until night, when he retired at once to his own rooms. 

All this was almost too much for poor Cherry's brain. She felt that ifshe did not find out more, she should die of curiosity. Knowing so muchonly made her long to know more. 

At last, one night after her master had gone to the enchanted room, Cherrycrept up to the door, and instead of only listening at it as usual, sheknelt down and peeped through the keyhole, which, for once, was notcovered. 

Inside the room she saw her master in the midst of a number of ladies, some of whom were singing, and their voices sounded like silver bells;others were walking about, but one, the most beautiful of all, was sittingat the coffin on six legs, performing on it as though it were a piano. She had long dark hair streaming right down to the floor, and a blue gownall trimmed with sparkling silver, her shoes were blue with diamond starson the toes, and round her neck she had a string of turquoises set indiamonds. 

Poor Cherry was very much hurt and mortified when she saw her belovedmaster with all those lovely ladies, but oh, how miserable she felt whenshe saw him kiss the lovely lady in blue and silver! She did not sayanything, though, --indeed, she had no one to speak to, --and she went abouther work as usual, but the next morning when her master came into thegarden and began to talk to her as usual she answered him quite shortlyand rudely, and when he asked her what was the matter with her, she toldhim to leave her to herself. If he wanted to talk he could go and talk tothe Little People he was so fond of. 

Her master was very much surprised and annoyed when he heard this, for heknew that she had been disobedient, and had used the Fairy Ointment. He did not scold her, though, but he told her simply and mournfully, andin a tone which gave her no hope, that they must part. 

"You will have to go home, Cherry; you have disobeyed my orders. I canhave no one spying and watching me. I must send you away, my child. "He spoke so sadly that Cherry's heart felt as though it must break. "And I must have Aunt Prudence back, " he added, with a sigh. 

Very, very unhappy was poor Cherry when she went to bed that night, andshe had only just cried herself to sleep when her master came and wokeher, telling her to get up and dress. Without a word, but choked withsobs, she obeyed him, and when she was ready she found him waiting forher, with a lantern and a large bundle of beautiful clothes that he hadtied up for her. 

As soon as they had had some food they started, and miles and miles andmiles they walked, for the way seemed ten times as long as when they came. For one thing it was all uphill now, and for another, Cherry's heart washeavy, and a heavy heart makes heavy feet. 

It was nearly daybreak when at last they reached the Lady Downs, and cameto a standstill. The sun was just rising over the great lonely moor. 

"We must part now, my poor child, " said her master. "You are severelypunished for your curiosity, but it cannot be otherwise. Good-bye, Cherry; do your duty, and try to get the better of your failing, and ifyou are a good girl I will come to these Downs sometimes to see you. "

Then kissing her, he turned away and disappeared as suddenly as he hadfirst appeared. 

Dazed and stupefied, scarcely able to realize all the trouble that hadbefallen her, Cherry sat for a long time where he had left her. In herthoughts she went over and over her happy life for the past year, all thatshe had had, and lost. By and by the sun came out in its full strengthand warmed her, and roused her sufficiently to look about her, and wonderwhat she should do next, for, of course, she could not stay where she was. 

Presently she noticed that she was sitting on the very same stone at thecross-roads where, on the day she left home, she had sat and cried, andthe strange gentleman had first appeared to her. The recollection broughtback to her more painfully than ever her own foolishness and wickedness, and all that she had lost, and oh, how miserable she did feel, and how shecried and cried, and how she longed and longed for her dear, good masterto come again and forgive her. 

He did not come, though, and by and by, as the day had worn far on, Cherryfelt that she had better seek her home before nightfall. Listlesslyenough she rose and trudged along the old familiar roads to her father'shouse, with miserable eyes she recognized the old landmarks, but withoutany pleasure, until at last she came to the poor little hut she called'home. ' It looked poorer, and meaner, and more comfortless than ever, after the luxuries she had grown accustomed to. Her mother and all therest of them were sitting at dinner when Cherry opened the door. At the sound of the latch Mrs. Honey looked up, and gave one big screech. 

"Why, 'tis Cherry!" she cried, "or her ghost! Cross her, father. Crossher!" And when Cherry, taking no notice of her screams, advanced into thekitchen, they all backed away from her, one on top of another, each tryingto get behind someone else, for they had long since made up their mindsthat Cherry was dead, and never for a moment dreamed that this apparitionwas Cherry herself, living flesh and blood. 

Not until she flopped into a chair, saying wearily, "Give me a dish oftay, mother, for goodness sake, I'm so wisht I don't know how to bear withmyself. "

"Tisn't no ghost, mother, " cried Tom Honey, his courage reviving; "noghost would want such poor trade as tay. "

Then the others plucked up their spirits, too, and crowded round her, asking a dozen questions, and all at the same time; and for the sake ofpeace and quiet Cherry told them her wonderful adventures from the day sheleft them, and, as was to be expected, not one believed a word of it. 

"The maid's mazed, " said her father, and the others agreed. But as timewent on Cherry repeated the tale so often, and always the same; and shecried so bitterly for her master and his little boy, that they wereobliged to believe her, in spite of themselves. "There must be some truthin it, " they said, "it couldn't all be fancy. "

Poor Cherry! She was never happy again after her experience. Many peoplesaid she was bewitched, others declared she was wrong in her mind, butthat was only because whenever there was a moonlight night, she wanderedon the Lady Downs hour after hour, longing and hoping to see her master. For hours together, too, she would sit on the stone at the fourcross-roads, in sunshine or snow, wind or rain, with the tears coursingdown her cheeks, and such a pain at her heart, that she hardly knew how toendure it. 

He never came, though. To all appearances he had entirely forgotten poor, faulty Cherry, and by and by she died, unable to bear the loneliness anylonger. 

THE FAIRIES ON THE GUMP. 

Down by St. Just, not far from Cape Cornwall and the sea, is a smallhill, --or a very large mound would, perhaps, be the truer description, --called 'The Gump, ' where the Small People used to hold their revels, andwhere our grandfathers and grandmothers used to be allowed to stand andlook on and listen. 

In those good old times fairies and ordinary people were all good friendstogether, and it is because they were all such friends and trusted oneanother so, that our grandfathers and grandmothers were able to tell theirgrandchildren so many tales about fairies, and piskies, and buccas, andall the rest of the Little People. 

People believed in the Fairies in those days, so the Fairies in returnoften helped the people, and did them all sorts of kindnesses. Indeed, they would do so now if folks had not grown so learned and disbelieving. It seems strange that because they have got more knowledge of somematters, they should have grown more ignorant of others, and declare thatthere never were such things as Fairies, just because they have neitherthe eyes nor the minds to see them!

Of course, no one could expect the sensitive little creatures to appearwhen they are sneered at and scoffed at. All the same, though, they areas much about us as ever they were, and if you or I, who do believe in theLittle People, were to go to the Gump on the right nights at the righthour, we should see them feasting and dancing and holding their revelsjust as of old. If, though, you do go, you must be very careful to keepat a distance, and not to trespass on their fairy ground, for that is agreat offence, and woe be to you if you offend them!

There was, once upon a time, a grasping, mean old fellow who did so, andpretty well he was punished for his daring. It is his story I am going totell you, but I will not tell you his name, for that would be unpleasantfor his descendants, but I will tell you this much, --he was a St. Justman, and no credit to the place either, I am sure. 

Well, this old man used to listen to the tales the people told of theFairies and their riches, and their wonderful treasures, until he couldscarcely bear to hear any more, he longed so to have some of those richesfor himself; and at last his covetousness grew so great, he said tohimself he must and would have some, or he should die of vexation. 

So one night, when the Harvest Moon was at the full, he started off alone, and very stealthily, to walk to the Gump, for he did not want hisneighbours to know anything at all about his plans. He was very nervous, for it is a very desolate spot, but his greed was greater than his fear, and he made himself go forward, though he longed all the time to turn tailand hurry home to the safe shelter of his house and his bed. 

When he was still at some distance from the enchanted spot, strains of themost exquisite music anyone could possibly imagine reached his ear, and ashe stood listening it seemed to come nearer and nearer until, at last, it was close about him. The most wonderful part, though, of it all wasthat there was nothing to be seen, no person, no bird, not an animal even. The empty moor stretched away on every side, the Gump lay bare anddesolate before him. The only living being on it that night was himself. 

The music, indeed, seemed to come from under the ground, and such strangemusic it was, too, so gentle, so touching, it made the old miser weep, inspite of himself, and then, even while the tears were still running downhis cheeks, he was forced to laugh quite merrily, and even to dance, though he certainly did not want to do either. After that it was notsurprising that he found himself marching along, step and step, keepingtime with the music as it played, first slowly and with stately tread, then fast and lively. 

All the time, though, that he was laughing and weeping, marching ordancing, his wicked mind was full of thoughts as to how he should get atthe fairy treasure. 

At last, when he got close to the Gump, the music ceased, and suddenly, with a loud crashing noise which nearly scared the old man out of hissenses, the whole hill seemed to open as if by magic, and in one instantevery spot was lighted up. Thousands of little lights of all coloursgleamed everywhere, silver stars twinkled and sparkled on everyfurze-bush, tiny lamps hung from every blade of grass. It was a morelovely sight than one ever sees nowadays, more lovely than any pantomimeone has ever seen or ever will see. Then, out from the open hill marchedtroops of little Spriggans. 

Spriggans, you must know, are the Small People who live in rocks andstones, and cromlechs, the most mischievous, thievish little creaturesthat ever lived, and woe betide anyone who meddles with theirdwelling-places. 

Well, first came all those Spriggans, then a large band of musiciansfollowed by troops of soldiers, each troop carrying a beautiful banner, which waved and streamed out as though a brisk breeze were blowing, whereas in reality there was not a breath of wind stirring. 

These hosts of Little People quickly took up their places in perfect orderall about the Gump, and, though they appeared quite unconscious of hispresence, a great number formed a ring all round the old man. He wasgreatly amazed, but, "Never mind, " he thought, "they are such littlewhipper-snappers I can easily squash them with my foot if they try on anyMay-games with me. "

As soon as the musicians, the Spriggans, and the soldiers had arrangedthemselves, out came a lot of servants carrying most lovely gold andsilver vessels, goblets, too, cut out of single rubies, and diamonds, andemeralds, and every kind of precious stone. Then came others bearing richmeats and pastry, luscious fruits and preserves, everything, in fact, thatone could think of that was dainty and appetizing. Each servant placedhis burden on the tables in its proper place, then silently retired. 

Can you not imagine how the glorious scene dazzled the old man, and howhis eyes glistened, and his fingers itched to grab at some of thewonderful things and carry them off? He knew that even one only of thoseflashing goblets would make him rich for ever. 

He was just thinking that nowhere in the world could there be a morebeautiful sight, when, lo and behold! the illumination became twenty timesas brilliant, and out of the hill came thousands and thousands ofexquisitely dressed ladies and gentlemen, all in rows, each gentlemanleading a lady, and all marching in perfect time and order. 

They came in companies of a thousand each, and each company wasdifferently attired. In the first the gentlemen were all dressed inyellow satin covered with copper-coloured spangles, on their heads theywore copper-coloured helmets with waving, yellow plumes, and on their feetyellow shoes with copper heels. The flashing of the copper in themoonlight was almost blinding. Their companions all were dressed alike inwhite satin gowns edged with large turquoises, and on their tiny feet paleblue shoes with buckles formed of one large turquoise set in pearls. 

The gentlemen conducted the ladies to their places on the Gump, and with acourtly bow left them, themselves retiring to a little distance. The nexttroop then came up, in this the gentlemen were all attired in black, trimmed with silver, silver helmets with black plumes, black stockings andsilver shoes. Their ladies were dressed in pink embroidered in gold, withwaving pink plumes in their hair, and golden buckles on their pink shoes. In the next troop the men were dressed in blue and white, the ladies ingreen, with diamonds all around the hem of the gown, diamonds flashing intheir hair, and hanging in long ropes from their necks; on their greenshoes single diamonds blazed and flashed. 

So they came, troop after troop, more than I can describe, or you couldremember, only I must tell you that the last of all were the most lovely. The ladies, all of whom had dark hair, were clad in white velvet linedwith the palest violet silk, while round the hems of the skirts and on thebodices were bands of soft white swansdown. Swansdown also edged thelittle violet cloaks which hung from their shoulders. I cannot describeto you how beautiful they looked, with their rosy, smiling faces, and longblack curls. On their heads they wore little silver crowns set withamethysts, amethysts, too, sparkled on their necks and over their gowns. In their hands they carried long trails of the lovely blossom of thewistaria. Their companions were clad in white and green, and in theirleft hands they carried silver rods with emerald stars at the top. 

It really seemed at one time as though the troops of Little People wouldnever cease pouring out of the hill. They did so at last, though, and assoon as all were in their places the music suddenly changed, and becamemore exquisite than ever. 

The old man by this time seemed able to see more clearly, and hear moredistinctly, and his sense of smell grew keener. Never were such flashinggems as here, never had any flowers such scents as these that were here. 

There were now thousands of little ladies gathered on the Gump, and theseall broke out into song at the same instant, such beautiful singing, too, so sweet and delicate. The words were in an unknown tongue, but the songwas evidently about some great personages who were about to emerge fromthe amazing hill, for again it opened, and again poured forth a crowd ofSmall People. 

First of all came a bevy of little girls in white gauze, scatteringflowers, which, as soon as they touched the ground, sprang up into fulllife and threw out leaves and more flowers, full of exquisite scents; thencame a number of boys playing on shells as though they were harps, and making ravishing music, while after them came hundreds and hundreds oflittle men clad in green and gold, followed by a perfect forest of bannersspreading and waving on the air. 

Then last, but more beautiful than all that had gone before, was carried araised platform covered with silk embroidered with real gold, and edgedwith crystals, and on the platform were seated a prince and princess ofsuch surpassing loveliness that no words can be found to describe them. They were dressed in the richest velvet, and covered with precious stoneswhich blazed and sparkled in the myriad lights until the eye could scarcebear to look at them. 

Over her lovely robe the princess's hair flowed down to the floor, whereit rested in great shining, golden waves. In her hand she held a goldensceptre, on the top of which blazed a diamond as large as a walnut, whilethe prince carried one with a sapphire of equal size. After a deal ofmarching backwards and forwards, the platform was placed on the highestpoint of the Gump, which was now a hill of flowers, and every fairy walkedup and bowed, said something to the prince and princess, and passed on toa seat at the tables. And the marvel was that though there were so manyfairies present, there was not the slightest confusion amongst them, notone person moved out of place at the wrong moment. All was as quiet andwell-arranged as could possibly be. 

At length all were seated, whereupon the prince gave a signal, on which anumber of footmen came forward carrying a table laden with dainty food insolid gold dishes, and wines in goblets of precious stones which theyplaced on the platform before the prince and princess. As soon as theroyal pair began to eat, all the hosts around them followed their example, and such a merry, jovial meal they had. The viands disappeared as fast asthey could go, laughter and talk sounded on all sides, and never a signdid any of them give that they knew that a human being was watching them. If they knew it, they showed not the slightest concern. 

"Ah!" thought the old miser to himself. "I can't get all I'd like to, butif I could reach up to the prince's table I could get enough at one grabto set me up for life, and make me the richest man in St. Just parish!"

Stooping down, he slowly and stealthily dragged himself nearer and nearerto the table. He felt quite sure that no one could see him. What hehimself did not see was that hundreds of wicked little Spriggans had tiedropes on to him, and were holding fast to the ends. He crawled andcrawled so slowly and carefully that it took him some time to get over theground, but he managed it at last, and got quite close up to the lovelylittle pair. Once there he paused for a moment and looked back, --perhapsto see if the way was clear for him to run when he had done what he meantto do. He was rather startled to find that all was as dark as dark couldbe, and that he could see nothing at all behind him. However, he tried tocheer himself by thinking that it was only that his eyes were dazzled bylooking at the bright lights so long. He was even more startled, though, when he turned round to the Gump again, to find that every eye of allthose hundreds and thousands of fairies on the hill was looking straightinto his eyes. 

At first he was really frightened, but as they did nothing but look, hetold himself that they could not really be gazing at him, and grew braverwith the thought. Then slowly bringing up his hat, as a boy does to catcha butterfly, he was just going to bring it down on the silken platform andcapture prince and princess, table, gold dishes and all, when hark!A shrill whistle sounded, the old man's hand, with the hat in it, wasparalysed in the air, so that he could not move it backwards or forwards, and in an instant every light went out, and all was pitchy darkness. 

There were a whir-r-r and a buzz, and a whir-r-r, as if a swarm of beeswere flying by him, and the old man felt himself fastened so securely tothe ground that, do what he would, he could not move an inch, and all thetime he felt himself being pinched, and pricked, and tweaked from top totoe, so that not an inch of him was free from torment. He was lying onhis back at the foot of the Gump, though how he got there he could nevertell. His arms were stretched out and fastened down, so that he could notdo anything to drive off his tormentors, his legs were so secured that hecould not even relieve himself by kicking, and his tongue was tied withcords, so that he could not call out. 

There he lay, no one knows how long, for to him it seemed hours, and noone else but the fairies knew anything about it. At last he felt a lot oflittle feet running over him, but whose they were he had no idea untilsomething perched on his nose, and by the light of the moon he saw it wasa Spriggan. His wicked old heart sank when he realized that he had gotinto their clutches, for all his life he had heard what wicked littlecreatures they were. 

The little imp on his nose kicked and danced and stamped about in greatdelight at finding himself perched up so high. We all know how painful itis to have one's nose knocked, even ever so little, so you may imaginethat the old miser did not enjoy himself at all. Master Spriggan did, though. He roared with laughter, as though he were having a huge joke, until at last, rising suddenly to his feet and standing on the tips of histiny toes, he shouted sharply, "Away! away! I smell the day!" and to theold man's great relief off he flew in a great hurry, followed by all hismischievous little companions who had been playing games, and runningraces all over their victim's body. 

Left at last to himself, the mortified old man lay for some time, thinkingover all that had happened, trying to collect his senses, and wonderinghow he should manage to escape from his bonds, for he might lie there fora week without any human being coming near the place. 

Till sunrise he lay there, trying to think of some plan, and then, what doyou think he saw? Why, that he had not been tied down by ropes at all, but only by thousands of gossamer webs! And there they were now, all overhim, with the dew on them sparkling like the diamonds that the princesshad worn the night before. And those dewdrop diamonds were all the jewelshe got for his night's work. 

When he made this discovery he turned over and groaned and wept with rageand shame, and never, to his dying day, could he bear to look at sparklinggold or gems, for the mere sight of them made him feel quite ill. 

At last, afraid lest he should be missed, and searchers be sent out tolook for him, he got up, brushed off the dewy webs, and putting on hisbattered old hat, crept slowly home. He was wet through with dew, cold, full of rheumatism, and very ashamed of himself, and very good care hetook to keep that night's experiences to himself. No one must know hisshame. 

Years after, though, when he had become a changed man, and repented of hisformer greediness, he let out the story bit by bit to be a lesson toothers, until his friends and neighbours, who loved to listen to anythingabout fairies, had gathered it all as I have told it to you here. And youmay be quite sure it is all true, for the old man was not clever enough toinvent it. 

THE FAIRY OINTMENT. 

Now I will tell you a story of a very foolish woman, whose curiosity gotthe better of her, and of how she was punished. 

The old woman's Christian name was Joan. I will not tell her surname, for it does not make any difference to the story, and there may besome of her descendants left who would not like it to be known. Joan was housekeeper to Squire Lovell. The name of his house shall bekept a secret too, but I will tell you this much, that he lived a fewmiles out of Penzance. 

Now one Saturday afternoon it fell out that Joan wanted to go to PenzanceMarket to get herself a pair of shoes, and to buy some groceries andseveral Christmas things for the house, for it was Christmas Eve, and theSquire had a lot of folks coming to supper that very night. So, theweather being fine, Joan started off soon after her twelve o'clock dinner, to walk into Penzance to market. Having, though, a great fancy forcompany, and loving a little gossip, she thought she would step in on herway to see if her friend Betty Trenance was going to market too. It would be so nice to have each other's company on the way. 

Now many persons in those parts told some very queer stories about BettyTrenance, and amongst themselves some called her a witch, and were afraidof her. Joan, though, argued that if she was a witch, there was all themore reason for keeping friendly with her. And if one did not offendBetty, she was always ready to give one a cup of tea, or do anything tooblige one. 

Betty lived down at Lamorna Cove, which was a little way out of Joan'sroad, but she did not mind that if she could get Betty's company. She walked quickly, though, for the days were short, and she had a longway to go, and to be back in time to cook the Squire's supper. On her way she met two of Betty's elder children carrying baskets of fishon their backs, and down in the Cove she saw all the younger ones at playwith the limpets and crabs in the rock-pools, and paddling about in thewater. But she could not stay to watch them, for she had no time tospare, so she hurried on to the cottage. 

When she got there, though, to her astonishment she found the front doorwas closed and fastened, not only latched either, but bolted! This wassuch an unusual thing in those parts, that Joan was quite startled. At first she thought something must really have gone amiss, then shecomforted herself by deciding that Betty had already started for themarket, and had locked the children out to keep them from ransacking theplace. Just, though, as she had settled all this in her mind, and wasabout to turn away, the sound of voices reached her, and voices talkingvery earnestly, too. 

Joan looked round her nervously, the voices sounded quite near to her, butthere was no sight or sign of any living thing except some seagulls, and Betty's old black cat. 

What did it all mean? Joan was frightened, but her curiosity made herstay and try to get to the bottom of the mystery. She stood quite stilland listened very closely. Yes, there were the voices again, plainlyenough, but where? She tiptoed close up to the door and placed her earagainst the keyhole. This time she heard Tom Trenance's voice quitedistinctly, --Tom was Betty's husband. He was talking very earnestly tosomeone too, more earnestly than she had ever heard him speak in her lifebefore, but, try as she would, she could not make out to whom he wasspeaking, nor what he was saying. 

This was more than inquisitive Joan could endure. She must know what wasgoing on in that cottage, or she would know no peace day or night, forthinking about it. So she made up her mind to knock and knock until thoseinside were obliged to come to the door, but first of all she thought shewould have a peep in through the finger-hole by the latch. So she stoopeddown and put her eye to the hole, and there she saw Tom sitting on thesettle, and after all it was only Betty that he was talking to. 

Betty was standing beside him with a little box in her hand, from whichshe took something that looked like ointment, which she smeared over herhusband's eyes, and all the time she did it she seemed to be mumbling someverses or something that sounded like a charm. There seemed to be othervoices as well, though, and to Joan's great annoyance she could not seefrom whence they came. 

All this put old Joan in a fearful flutter. People had always told herthat Betty was a witch, and that Tom had the power of the evil eye, andnow she began to believe them. You would not have thought so to look athim, for though they were very piercing, they were handsome hazel eyes, clear and kind-looking, --unless he was angered, and _then_--

Completely mystified, and more inquisitive than ever, Joan went round tothe window by the chimney, to see if from there she could hear what theywere saying; but it was of no use. The door of the cottage was on thelandward side, and the windows of the cottage were to seaward, and roundthe kitchen window was a great bush of honeysuckle and 'Traveller's Joy, 'which prevented anyone's getting quite close, and what with the sound ofthe sea, the singing of the birds, and the shouting of the children below, one might as well have been a mile off, for all one could hear!

Back tiptoed Joan again, and sat down on the bench outside the house tothink, but her curiosity would not let her keep still, so up she jumpedagain, and peeped through the door once more. This time she saw that Tomwas standing up, preparing to come out; so not wanting to be caughtprying, she tapped at the door, and lifting the latch at the same time, walked in as if she had but that moment arrived. She was so excited bywhat she was doing that she did not notice that the door opened quiteeasily now. She went in so quickly, too, that she was just in time to seeBetty push something under the dried ferns at the back of the chimney. 

After saying "good day, " and hearing what she had come for, Tom went out, leaving them to make their plans by themselves, but Betty, though sheseemed pleased to see her friend, could not be persuaded to go to marketwith her. She was very sorry, she said, but she was very bad, she had notbeen well for days, and she still had a good day's work to get throughmaking ready for Christmas. She was not too busy, though, to make a cupof tea, and Joan must stay and have one with her, and away she bustled tothe talfat, [1] where she had a special case of tea put away. This wasJoan's opportunity, and she seized it. As soon as Betty's back wasturned, she whipped the pot of ointment out from under the ferns, stuckher finger in it, and popped the pot back again, in no time. But nosooner had she touched her eye with the ointment than, oh! such a painshot through it, she very nearly shrieked aloud. It was as though ared-hot knitting needle had been run right through her eyeball!And, oh, the smarting and the burning that followed! To prevent a soundescaping her she had to hug and squeeze herself with all her might, shedared not open her lips to speak, and the tears poured down her cheekslike rain. 

It was lucky for her that Betty had some trouble in dragging the chest oftea from under the bed, for if she had come back quickly she could nothave helped seeing what Joan had been doing. By the time she returned, though, the worst of the pain was over, and keeping up her hand to thatside of her face, Joan managed to conceal the injured eye, and Betty wastoo busy with her fire and her kettle to be very observant. 

"I'm glad you came in to have a cup with me, and drink my health, it beingChristmas Eve and all, " said Betty as they drew up to the table. Then, having drunk each other's health, they had a third cup to drink thehealth of the children, for, as Joan said, "there wasn't a healthier, handsomer family in the whole parish. " Then they drank the health of themermaids, for it is always wise to be civil to them, and after that Joanrose to go. 

Before she could go, though, she felt she must manage to open her injuredeye, which still watered and smarted a good deal. So she rubbed it andblinked and winked until at last she managed to part the lids, --when, loand behold! to her amazement and alarm she saw that the house, which shehad thought empty save for herself and Betty, was simply thronged withLittle People!

There was not a spot that was free of them! They were climbing up thedressers, hanging on to the beams, swinging on the fishing nets, hangingacross them, playing pranks on the clock, on the table, and themantelpiece, sliding down the saucepan handles, riding races on mice, --they were everywhere, in fact, and up to every kind of game. 

They were all very beautifully dressed. Most of the little men wore greenvelvet, trimmed with scarlet, and their long green caps, which most ofthem were waving frantically, had long scarlet feathers in them. They all wore little red boots, too, and large silver spurs, --at least, large for fairies. 

The ladies were very consequential little people indeed, and swept aboutin their long-trained gowns as though they were Court ladies at aDrawing-room. On their little shoes they had diamond buckles, and theirgreat steeple-crowned hats were garlanded with beautiful flowers. Such flowers as are seldom seen on Christmas Eve, but the Little Peoplehave gardens under the sea where the flowers bloom in wonderful beauty allthe year round. Fishermen see them sometimes on moonlight nights, whenthe water is clear and the wind calm, and if they listen closely they canhear exquisite fairy music floating across the waters from bay to bay. 

Back in the corner by Betty's wood heap were a lot of Spriggans, poordepressed little creatures, dirty and sullen-looking. They were notlively like the others, for you know they have to guard the Fairytreasures all the year round, and they get no fun at all, as other fairiesdo. So they are naturally not very lively. 

While Joan was standing gazing, open-mouthed, bewildered by what she saw, strains of the most beautiful music reached her ears, and gradually achange began to come over the whole house. It was no wonder that shethought her head was turned! The music came nearer and nearer, andmingling with it was the tramp of hundreds of little feet; at last it camequite close, and through the window marched a regiment of robins asunconcernedly as a regiment of soldiers entering their barracks. Quite gravely they stepped down from the window, marched across the room, and flew up to the beam, where they perched themselves in perfect order, and began to sing as hard as they possibly could. In a moment or two theywere followed through the window by a regiment of wrens, and then by aregiment of Little People, all playing on every kind of musical instrumentever invented, and on a number made out of reeds, and shells, such as hadnever been seen before or since. 

Stepping down gracefully from the window to the floor, the band, followedby numbers of little ladies and gentlemen, carrying branches of herbs andflowers, marched with stately tread past old Betty Trenance, bowed to herin a most respectful manner in passing, then arranged themselves inperfect order behind her. Last of all came another troop of fairies, andthese took the herbs and flowers brought by the little ladies andgentlemen and placed them in Betty's apron. 

"These are what she makes her salves and ointments of, " thought Joan toherself; "no wonder she is thought so clever. "

This done, all the other fairies who had been playing about the house camedown to the floor and joined the new-comers. Such a crowd never was seen!No sooner had the flowers and herbs been heaped in Betty's lap thananother troop of fairies came forward with fox-glove bells full of dyes, which they poured over Betty's dress, when in a moment her russet gown waschanged to the softest white velvet, her apron to the filmiest lace, edged all round with a delicate fringe of harebells and snowdrops. Other fairies outlined the quilted 'diamonds' of her petticoat with silvercord. 

When her dress had been transformed in this way, all the troop of LittlePeople came forward with dainty bunches of flowers to complete her toilet, sweet wild flowers they were, delicate speedwells and forget-me-nots withtheir fresh green, and their innocent blue eyes; the warm scarletpimpernel, violets, snowdrops, heather bells, and ladies' whitepetticoats. Some of each and every kind of flower we find in the lanesand hedges. The little ladies stitched a small nosegay in each 'diamond'of Betty's petticoat, and every nosegay was different. The tiniestflowers of all they laid on sprays of feathery moss, others had backgroundof graceful ferns, or delicate grass. Around the hem of the skirt weresprays of pink and white dog-roses, while the bodice was wreathed withtiny pink and white convolvulus. Sparkling at Betty's throat were suchbrilliant jewels that Joan had to look away, her eyes were so dazzled. 

The strangest part of all this was that Betty did not seem in the leastsurprised at what was going on, and was apparently quite unaware that Joanwas watching her. 

As soon as the gown was completed, another group of the clever littlecreatures clambered up to the top of the high-backed chair in which Bettywas seated, and began to arrange her hair. Some had quaint little pots intheir hands from which they poured delicate perfumes over Betty's head, --Joan picked up one of the pots, which they threw aside when empty, andfound to her astonishment that it was only a poppy head. Then theycarefully arranged every curl and wave of Betty's hair, until she lookedas beautiful as a queen, and as dignified and stately, too; for Betty, though a mischievous witch, was not at all like our ideas of one. She was as clean as a new pin, and as neat and tidy as anyone could be. Her features were unusually handsome, and her thick dark hair, whichreached the ground when she sat down, was full of the prettiest curls andwaves. 

As soon as the last curl was arranged, and her tire-maidens satisfied, they placed a spray of jessamine amongst her tresses, and jumped down, their task completed. 

All this time the music was playing the most bewitching melodies. 

Very soon after this Joan began to have a feeling that Betty wished hergone. The Little People, too, were making signs that she could not failto understand, and such hideous grimaces at her, too, that made her longto box their ears. Of course, neither Betty nor the fairies knew that shehad used the Fairy Ointment, and could see them, and to save herself frombeing found out, she bade her friend 'goodbye' with all speed. 

When Joan got outside, though, she could not resist one more sly peep in, just to make sure she had not been dreaming. So down went her eye to thefinger-hole again, but all she saw was the kitchen, with its sanded floorand bright turf fire, the key-beam with the nets hanging across it, andBetty stitching away as fast as her fingers could fly. 

"This is the most extraordinary thing I ever heard tell of, " said Joan toherself. "I'll have another look. "

Down went her eye again, but the right one this time, and, lo and behold!there was the kitchen turned into a splendid banqueting hall, hung aroundwith tapestry representing everything that had ever happened in the world. The talfat-rail was turned into a balcony hung with pale blue satin, wheresat a number of little ladies and gentlemen watching the dancing which wasgoing on below. The costumes of all were magnificent, the cottage was asbeautiful as a bit of Fairyland, and seated on a golden chair of stateunder a velvet canopy was Betty Trenance looking as royal as a queen. 

Betty, though, seemed to be keeping a sharp eye on the door, and as shehad a crowd of wicked little piskies about her, Joan thought it wise toget away to safer quarters. So off she hurried, but as she went she metnumbers of fairies all hurrying away to Betty's cottage, while from therocks below came the doleful wail of the mermaids, and all was so uncannyJoan was glad to hurry along as fast as she knew how. She was reallyscared by this time, and the light was growing dim, for it was alreadypast three o'clock. 

Once arrived at Penzance, Joan did her marketing quickly, but by the timeshe had finished she was very tired and very hungry, for she had hadnothing to eat since twelve o'clock dinner, and had been trudging aboutfor hours. So, having a piece of saffron cake in her basket, she turnedinto an inn in Market Jew Street, to get something to drink with it, and aplace to sit down for a while to rest. 

When she got there she found the house so crowded that she had to sit on abench outside, and here she met a lot of friends, and had a thorough goodgossip. They drank each other's health too, and passed the compliments ofthe season, until Joan remembered all of a sudden that she ought to havebeen on her way home by that time, for the Squire would be very angry ifshe were not there to see to things for the supper-party. 

Up she jumped in a great flurry, and had said 'good-bye' all round whenshe suddenly remembered that she had not yet bought several of the thingsshe had come to town on purpose to get. She was dreadfully vexed, but there was no time to stay and think about it, she had just to hurryback into the market and make her purchases as quickly as possible. 

At last she had really bought everything, and was about to leave, whenunfortunately some wonderful bargains caught her eye, and it did seem toher sinful to go away without taking a glance at them when she might neverhave such a chance again. So she lingered by the stalls, and wandered upand down having a good look at everything, when whom should she see doingthe very same thing but Tom Trenance!

He did not see Joan, so she thought she would go up and speak to him, andask if he was going home soon, for it would be nice to have his company onthe way. He was so busy, though, darting about from stall to stall, thatJoan could never get up to him. But she could see what he was doing, andthe sight made Joan's blood boil with indignation! He was helping himselfto everything that took his fancy! Yarn, stockings, boots, spoons, clothing, until the wonder was that he could manage to stow the thingsaway. 

The oddest part of all, though, was that nobody seemed to see him. Joan looked again and again to make sure she was not dreaming, but no, hewas there right enough, and pocketing things as fast as he could, rightunder the stall-keepers' very noses, and they paying no heed whatever tohim!

Joan could bear it no longer! She could not stand by and see suchwickedness going on; it made her blood boil with indignation. So over shebustled and touched him on the arm. 

"Tom Trenance, " she cried, "I'm downright ashamed of 'ee! I wonder youain't above carrying on such dishonest ways, and you with children to setan example to! I didn't think you capable of such wickedness. "

Tom for a minute looked, and was too much taken aback to speak. But hequickly recovered himself. "Why, Joan, " he said, taking no notice of heraccusations, "I take it very kind and neighbourly of 'ee to come up andspeak. What sharp eyes you've got! Now which of them did you 'appen tocatch sight of me with?"

"Which? Why, both, of course, " cried Joan, but she put up her hand firstover one and then over the other, and found she could only see Tom withthe right one. "Why, no, I can't see 'ee with both, " she cried inastonishment. "The left one don't seem to be a bit of good!"

"The right one is it?" said Tom, and his look went through her like agimlet. Then, pointing his finger at it, he muttered:--

 "Thou wicked old spy-- Thou shalt no more see me, Nor peep nor pry With that charmed eye. "

And at that very moment a sharp pain shot through her right eye. It wasso sharp that she screamed aloud, and from that moment she never could seewith it again. 

Yelling, and pressing her fist into her throbbing eyeball, she rushedhither and thither, calling to people to come and help her, and to go andcatch Tom Trenance, all in one breath; but as they could not see Tom, --norcould she, either, now, --they unkindly said the poor soul was crazy, which, of course, was most unjust and cruel of them, and shows whatmistakes people can make. 

Of course, it was the Fairy Ointment on her eye which enabled her to seeso much, and it was that same ointment which rendered Tom Trenanceinvisible to everyone but to her. 

How poor Joan ever found her way back to Market Jew Street again she nevercould tell, but when she did arrive there she had, of course, to stay alittle while and tell her sad story, so that it was really quite late anddark before she started for home; and then, what with the darkness and herblindness she could only crawl along. She groped her way painfully downVoundervoor and over the Green, stumbling over the ruts and sandy banksuntil she was very nearly driven crazy. Through only being able to seewith her left eye, she kept bearing away to the left side of the road, andI cannot tell you how many times she fell into the ditch, marketing andall! And so afraid was she of falling into the sea, and so close did shekeep to the other side of the road away from it, that at last she wentright through the hedge and fell over into a place called'Park-an-Shebbar!'

Luckily one of the farm-boys was in the field, and helped her up andpicked up her parcels for her; then, seeing how bad she was, he took herinto the house to rest and recover, for she seemed quite dazed by thattime. There they gave her something to bring her round, and presently shebegan to feel better and able to go on again. 

By this time she was very anxious to get home, so the lad helped her overthe stream and set her on the right road once more. This time Joanstepped out briskly, for she was really very troubled about the Squire'ssupper, and all the people who were expected to it. If she did not gethome soon, they would have arrived first, and, oh, how angry the Squirewould be!

By the time, though, that she got to the top of Paul Hill, she was sotired she felt she could not go another step without a rest, so, thoughshe could badly spare the time, she dropped with a sigh of relief on to asoft green spot, when, oh! what a shriek she gave! for the soft green spotwas a duck-pond covered with duck-weed! How she got out of the pond shecould never tell, but she did and crept over to the other side of theroad, where she fell back on the hedge quite exhausted. 

"Oh dear, oh dear!" she moaned, "I'm nearly dead. Oh, if only I'd got ourold Dumpling here to give me a lift; or any other quiet old horse I'd bethankful for. I shall never reach home to-night on my two feet, I'm sure, they are ready to drop off already!"

Barely had she uttered her wish when there by the roadside stood an oldwhite horse, cropping quietly away at the brambles and dead ferns. How he came there I can't tell you. Whether he had been there all thetime without her seeing him, or whether he came by magic, no one can say, but there he was. 

Many persons in Dame Joan's place would have been afraid to mount him, fearing witchcraft, or fairies' pranks, but Joan was too tired to havemany scruples. So up she got and untied his feet, for he was hobbled, putthe rope round his head, and then managed somehow to clamber up on hisback, basket and all. It was hard work, but she got settled after a bit, then picking up the rope, called to him to start. 

"Gee wug! gee wo!" she called, "get up, you lazy old faggot!" and shehammered away at his side with her heels with all her might--and her shoeswere none of the daintiest! but in spite of her coaxings and her threats, her kicks and her thumps, the old horse did not move an inch. 

"Come up, can't you! Gee wug, come here!" She beat him and kicked himagain until she was really too tired to move hand or foot; then, when shehad given up in despair, the tiresome creature made a start. But such astart! he went at a slow snail's pace, and try as Joan would she could notmake him go faster. 

At last, though, when she reached the top of a hill, there came from thevalley below the cry of hounds, devil's hounds they must have been, for noothers would be out at that time of night. As soon as the sounds reachedthe old horse's ears, he pricked them up, whinnied loudly, and with a tossof his head and a fling of his tail started away like any young colt. 

Away, away, uphill and downhill they tore as fast as the wind. Joan clungto the horse's mane with both hands, and yelled and yelled to him to stop. She might as well, though, have held her breath. All her marketing flewout of her basket, her precious beaver hat was carried away, her shawl waswhisked off her back! On and on the old horse tore, jumping overeverything that came in his way, until Joan was nearly flung from hisback. Presently, too, to her horror she saw that the creature wasgrowing bigger and bigger, and higher and higher; soon he shot up abovethe trees, then he was as high as the church tower. Poor Joan, perched onhis back, grew sick, giddy, and terrified. She was afraid now to slip offlest she should be dashed to pieces, and was afraid to stay there lest sheshould fall off. 

For miles and miles they travelled like this, until at last they came toToldave Moor, on the further side of which there was, Joan knew, a deepblack pool, and for this pool, to Joan's horror, the monster gallopedstraight!

"If I don't slip off now, I shall surely be drowned outright!" thoughtpoor Joan, for the pond was deep, she felt her powers were failing her;her hands were numb, her limbs cramped. She knew she could not swim. "Better a dry death than a wet one, it will save my clothes, anyway!"So, letting go her hold of the creature's mane, she was about to letherself slide down, when the wind caught her and carried her right off thehorse's back. They were going at a terrific rate, and the wind was verykeen on the moor; it lifted her right up in the air, high above the horse, and then, just as she thought she was going to disappear through theclouds, she was dropped plump into the rushes by the edge of the very poolitself. 

At the same moment the air became filled with the most awful clamour, suchyells and cries, and terrible laughter as no living being had ever heardbefore. Poor old Joan thought her last hour had really come, and gaveherself up for lost, for when she looked round she saw the fearful greatcreature she had been riding, disappearing in the distance in flames offire, and tearing after it, helter-skelter, pell-mell, was a horrible crewof men and dogs and horses. Two or three hundred of them there must havebeen, and not one of the lot had a head on his shoulders. 

Joan would have screamed, too, if she had not been stricken dumb withfright; so, very nearly scared to death, trembling with cold and fear, there she lay until they had disappeared. 

How she scrambled out of her soft, damp resting-place she could nevertell, but she did, somehow, and got as far as Trove Bottom, though withoutany shoes, for they had come off in the ditch. Her shawl was gone, too, and all her marketing, and, worst of all, her precious broad-brimmedbeaver hat. 

There was a linhay down at the Bottom, where Squire Lovell kept a lot ofsheep, and into that Joan crept, and lay down, and from sheer exhaustionfell asleep and slept till morning. How much longer she would have sleptno one knows, but on Sunday mornings it was the Squire's habit to go downand look over his sheep, and on this Sunday, though it was Christmas Day, he visited them as usual. 

His entrance with his boys and his dogs and his flashing lantern woke oldJoan with a start, and so certain was she that they were the horse, andthe huntsmen, and their hounds come again, that she sprang up in a frenzyof terror. "Get out, get out!" she cried, "let a poor old woman be!"But instead of the hollow laugh of the huntsmen, it was the Squire's voicethat answered her. 

"Why, here's our poor old lost Joan!" he cried, amazed, "and frightenedout of her wits, seemingly! Why, Joan, " he said, "whatever have you beenspending the night out here for? We've been scouring the country for you, for hours!"

"Oh, Master!" she cried, almost in tears as she dropped trembling at hisfeet, "for the sake of all the years I've served 'ee from your cradle up, do 'ee let me die in peace, and bury me decent!" and then, her tongue onceset going, she poured out all the long tale of the dreadful things thathad happened to her since she set out for Penzance Market. 

How long she would have talked no one knows, but the Squire sent for hismen, and between them they carried her home, and warmed and fed andcomforted her, for she was black and blue, wet to the skin, and halffrozen. However, with all their care she soon recovered, and when she wasdry, and warm, and rested she poured out all her adventures and disasters. 

To her astonishment, though, and anger and pain, they refused to believe aword of it. They did not pity her a bit; they even laughed at her. Indeed, they tried to make her believe that the enchanted steed was onlythe miller's old white horse, that the demon huntsman and his hounds wereno more nor less than her own son John riding across the moor with thedogs, in search of her, that her lost eye must have been scratched out bya 'fuz'-bush; and so they went on pooh-poohing the whole of her story, --which was very nearly the most aggravating thing of all she had had tobear. 

One thing, though, Joan had not told them, and that was about her stealingthe Fairy Ointment, or they would have known that she had been pisky-ledthat night, by order of the Fairies, as a punishment, and would one andall have agreed that she richly deserved it. 

[1] A 'talfat' is a raised floor at one end of a cottage, on which a bedis placed. Sometimes it is divided off by a wooden partition, but moreoften there is only a bar, to prevent the sleeper falling out of bed. 

THE EXCITING ADVENTURE OF JOHN STURTRIDGE. 

One of the greatest feast-days in Cornwall, and the most looked forwardto, is St. Picrons' Day, which falls just before Christmas. It is thespecial day of the tinners and streamers, their greatest holiday in theyear, and on it they have a great merry-making. Picrons was thediscoverer of tin in Cornwall, so they say, so, of course, it is thebounden duty of those who earn their living by it, to keep up his day withrejoicings. 

It is not of St. Picrons, though, that I am going to tell you, but of JohnSturtridge, a streamer, and what befell him one year when he had beenkeeping up St. Picrons' Day. 

He had been up to the 'Rising Sun' to the great supper that was alwaysheld there, and to the merry-making after it, and had enjoyed himselfmightily. Enjoyed himself so much, in fact, that he did not greatlyrelish having to turn out, when both were ended, and face a long walkhome. 

It was a bitterly cold night, and the road was a lonely one, all acrossTregarden Downs. However, it had to be faced, and nothing was gained byputting it off, so John started, and at first he got along pretty well. True, he found the roads very puzzling, and difficult to follow, but thatmay have been the fault of the moonlight, or the will-o'-the-wisps. Anyhow, if he did not get on very rapidly, he got on somehow, andpresently reached the Downs. 

Now Tregarden Downs is a horribly wild, uncanny stretch of country, a place where no one chooses to walk alone after nightfall, and, thoughJohn was in a cheerful mood, and did not feel at all frightened, hequickened his steps, and pulled hot-foot for home and bed. He kept asharp eye on the cart-tracks, too, for he had no fancy for going astrayhere as he had done in the lanes. Whether, though, he did go a littleastray or not, no one can say, but all of a sudden what should he comeupon right across his path, but a host of piskies playing all sorts ofgames and high jinks under the shelter of a great granite boulder. 

Whatever John's feelings may have been at the sight of them, the piskieswere not troubled by the sight of John. They were not in the leastalarmed, the daring little imps. They only burst into roars of wickedlaughter, which pretty nearly scared the wits out of poor John, and madehim take to his heels and run for his life! If only he could get off theDowns, he thought, he would be safe enough, but the Downs, of which heknew every yard, seemed to-night to stretch for miles and miles, and, try as he would, he could not find his way off them. He wandered roundand round, and up and down, and to and fro, until at last he was obligedto admit to himself that he did not know in the least where he was, for hecould not find a single landmark to guide him. 

It is a very unpleasant thing to lose yourself on a big lonely Down, on ableak winter's night, but it is ten times more unpleasant when you arepursued all the way by scores of mischievous little sprites, who shriekwith laughter at you all the time, and from sheer wickedness delight inleading you into all the marshy places, the prickily 'fuz'-bushes, andrough boulders they can find, and nearly die of laughter when you prick orbump yourself, or get stuck in the mud. 

John was thoroughly frightened, and thoroughly out of temper, and wasmeditating how he could punish his little tormentors, when suddenly fromall sides rose a shrill cry. "Ho and away for Par Beach! Ho and away forPar Beach! Ho and away for Par Beach!"

Hardly knowing what he was doing John shouted, too. "Ho and away for ParBeach!" he yelled at the top of his voice, and almost before he had saidthe words he was caught high up in the air, and in another minute foundhimself on the great stretch of sands at Par. As soon as they hadrecovered their breath the piskies all formed up in rings and began todance as fast as their little feet could move, and John with them. 

"Ho and away for Squire Tremaine's cellar!" The shrill cry rang outagain, even as they danced. John again repeated the cry, and in a flashfound himself in the cellars at Heligan, --Squire Tremaine's place, --withhis mischievous little companions swarming all over them. John felt nofear of them now. He joined them in all their pranks, and had a good timerunning from cask to cask, and bottle to bottle, opening everything andtasting the contents of most. 

John at last became so confused he could not remember who he was or wherehe was; in fact, he was so confused and so sleepy that when the piskiescalled out, "Ho and away for Par Beach!" try as he would he could notspeak, so the piskies flew off, and John was left behind alone. 

John did not mind it in the least, at first, for it was much more pleasantin the shelter of the cellar, with plenty of wine to warm him, than itwould be out on the desolate sands at Par, where the wind blows keenlyenough to take one's ears off. John did mind, though, the next morning, when the butler came and discovered him. He was groping his way betweentwo rows of casks, trying to find his way to Luxulyan, he explained to thebutler, but the butler, instead of putting him in the right road, led himat once to Squire Tremaine's study, where John told the wonderful story ofhis adventures. 

Strangely enough, though, neither the Squire nor anyone else would believea word of them, and without any consideration for poor John's feelings, they popped him into Bodmin Jail almost as quickly as the piskies and hehad popped into the cellar. And worse still, before much time hadelapsed, they tried him, convicted him, and sentenced him to be hanged. 

Poor John! Here was a dreadful state of affairs, and all brought on aninnocent man by those wicked piskies! There was no escape either, or hopeof reprieve, for people were not so tender-hearted in those days as inthese, and a man was not only sentenced to death for a trifle, but no oneever took any trouble to get him off. 

Well, the fatal day came, and John was brought to the gallows, where alarge crowd was gathered to see the execution; and there stood John, withthe clergyman imploring him to confess, and free his mind of a load offalsehood; and the hangman waiting with the noose in his hand, waiting toslip it over poor John's head, when suddenly a beautiful little lady, dressed in white and silver, appeared in the midst of the crowd gatheredat the gallows-foot. 

No one saw her come, no one knew how she got there; but without a wordfrom her, not knowing, indeed, why they did so, every man, woman, andchild stood back and left a clear pathway for her right up to thescaffold. 

There she paused, and stood, with her eyes fixed on the prisoner, who, however, did not see her, for he was too frightened to notice anythingthat was going on around him--until, "Ho and away for France!" rang out asweet voice, which John recognized in a moment. With the sound of it hispoor dazed senses returned, and the spirit to seize the chance of escapeoffered him. 

"Ho and away for France!" he yelled. There was no danger of his not beingable to shout this time! And then, before anyone there could collect hissenses, the officers of justice saw their prisoner whisked away from outof their very grasp, and John was in France long before the executionerand the chaplain, the jailers and the crowd, had ceased gaping stupidly ateach other. 

THE TRUE STORY OF ANNE AND THE FAIRIES. 

More than two hundred years ago there lived in the parish of St. Teath, a poor labouring man called Jefferies, and this man had one daughter, called Anne. Anne was a sweetly pretty girl, and a very intelligent one, too; but she was a terrible hoyden. She shocked all the old ladies in thevillage, and all the prim people, dreadfully, and instead of beingashamed, she seemed to glory in it. 

Everyone wondered how she came to have such a spirit, and whom she tookafter, for her mother was as quiet and meek a little woman as ever wasborn, and always had been; while her father was a stern, silent man, wholooked upon his flighty daughter as a thorn in his side, a cross laid uponhim for his good. But the fact remains that Anne was the most daring ofall the young people in the parish, doing things that even the boys wereafraid to do, for she had no fear, nothing awed her, and there was nothingshe would not attempt. 

In those days the fairies and piskies, witches and goblins of all sortswere all over the land, and everyone knew it, and was more or less in aweof them. The young people appealed to the fairies for everything, to behelped in their work, to get love-draughts, to be made beautiful, and toknow their fortunes. At the same time they all, except Anne, would havebeen scared to death if they had caught sight of one. Anne, indeed, oftenboldly declared that she longed to see them, and would love to have a talkwith them; and she made up her mind that she would, too, and when onceAnne had got an idea into her head, she generally managed to carry it out. 

So, without saying anything to anyone, she went out every evening as soonas the sun was gone down, and wandered about looking into the fox-glovebells, and under the ferns, examining the Fairy Rings and every otherlikely spot, singing:--

 Fairy fair and fairy bright, Come and be my chosen sprite!

For though she had got a very good and true sweetheart, named Tom, she hada great fancy for a fairy one. Perhaps she was thinking of the lovelypresents that people said the fairies gave, or perhaps she thought thatshe would like to live in a palace, and be dressed in silks and velvet, none of which things could poor Tom give her, of course. 

On moonlight nights Anne crept away by herself to the banks of the streamwhich ran through the valley, and here, walking against the current, shewould sing:--

 Moon shines bright, water runs clear, I am here, but where's my fairy dear?

She sang it wistfully enough to touch the heart of any fairy, but thoughshe went on for a long time repeating all the charms she knew, and trying, by every means she could think of, to please the Little People, and thoughshe often nearly put her hand on one during her searches, the LittlePeople never showed themselves to her. 

They noticed her, though, and were only biding their time. 

One beautiful warm summer's day, Anne, having finished her houseworkearly, took her knitting and went and sat in an arbour at the foot of thegarden, for she never could bear to be cooped up indoors if she couldpossibly get out. She had not been sitting there very long when she hearda rustling amongst the bushes, but she took no notice of it, for she feltit was sure to be her lover, coming to have a talk with her; and now thatshe was so possessed with the thought of a fairy lover, she had ceased tocare for poor Tom, and was extremely cool and off-hand with him. 

So, at the sound of the rustling, even when it was repeated, she did noteven raise her eyes from her knitting, or turn her head. 

Presently, though, the bushes were rustled more violently, and thensomeone gave a little laugh. Anne moved this time, for the laugh wascertainly not Tom's laugh. 

A lane ran along at the back of the arbour, a lane which one had to passdown to get to the garden gate, and it was from here that the laugh came. Anne peeped carefully out through the trellis-work and bushes to try tosee who it was who was laughing at her, but not a sign of any living beingcould she see. She felt annoyed, for it is extremely unpleasant to feelthat someone is looking at you through a peep-hole, and making game ofyou. 

Anne grew so vexed she could not keep her vexation to herself. "Well, " she said aloud, feeling sure it was Tom who was trying to teaseher, "you may stay there till the moss grows over you, before ever I'llcome out to you. "

A burst of laughter, peculiarly sweet and ringing, greeted her words. "Oh, " she thought to herself, "whoever can it be? I'm certain sure Tomcould never laugh like that. Who can it be, I wonder?"

She felt really nervous now, for there was something unnatural about itall, but she tried to reassure herself by thinking that nothing couldhappen to her in broad daylight such as it was then. Besides which, shedid not know of anyone who wished to harm her, for she was a favouritewith everyone in the village. She waited anxiously, though, to see whatwould happen next. 

She went on with her knitting, seemingly paying no heed to anything, buther ears were strained to catch the least sound, and when, after a littlewhile, the garden gate was softly opened and closed again, she heard itdistinctly, and glancing up to see who was coming, she saw to herastonishment, not Tom, or anyone else she knew, but six little piskygentlemen, handsome little creatures, with pleasant smiles and brilliantlyshining eyes. 

To her astonishment they did not seem at all disturbed at seeing her, butcame up and ranged themselves in a row before her and bowed to the ground. They were all dressed alike in green knickerbockers and tunics, edged withscarlet, and tiny green caps, and one, the handsomest of the lot, had abeautiful red waving feather at one side of his. They stood and looked atAnne and smiled, and Anne, not at all frightened now, but pleased, smiledback at them. Then he with the red feather stepped in front of theothers, and bowing to her in the most courtly manner, addressed her with acharming friendliness which set her at ease at once. 

Whether this strange little gentleman was really attracted by her charms, or whether he acted in the same way to every pretty girl he met, onecannot say, but he certainly looked at Anne very affectionately andadmiringly, and poor Anne's heart was captured at once. She was certainthere never had been such a charming little gentleman before, nor evercould be again, nor one with such good taste. 

Stooping down she held out her hand, whereupon the little gentlemanstepped into it, and Anne lifted him to her lap. From her lap he soonclimbed to her shoulder, and then he kissed her, and not only kissed heronce, but many times, and Anne thought him more charming than ever. Presently he called his companions, and they climbed up and kissed Anne, too, and patted her rosy cheeks, and smoothed her hair. But while one ofthem was patting her cheek, he ran his finger across her eyes, and Annegave a terrible scream, for with his touch she felt as though a needle hadbeen run through her eyeballs, and when she tried to open them again shefound she was blind. 

At the same moment she felt herself caught up in the air, and for whatseemed to her a very long time she was carried through it at a tremendousrate. At last they came to a stop, whereupon one of the Little Men saidsomething which Anne could not understand, and, behold, her eyesight atonce came back!

And now, indeed, she had something to use it on, for she found herself inwhat seemed to be a perfectly gorgeous palace, or rather two or threepalaces joined together, all built of gold and silver, with arches andpillars of crystal, large halls with walls of burnished copper, andbeautiful rooms inlaid with precious marbles. Outside was a perfectparadise of a garden, filled with lovely flowers, and trees laden withfruit or blossom. Birds were singing everywhere, such rare birds, too!Some were all blue and gold, others a bright scarlet, then again othersshone like silver or steel. There were large lakes full of gold andsilver fish, and marble fountains throwing jets of water high into theair. Here and there were dainty bowers covered with roses, and filledwithin with soft moss carpets and luxurious couches. Walking abouteverywhere in this lovely place were scores of little ladies andgentlemen, dressed in rich silks and velvets, and with precious stonessparkling and flashing from their fingers, their hair, their shoes, indeedthey seemed to sparkle all over, like flowers covered with dewdrops. Some strolled along the walks, others reclined in the bowers, some floatedin little scarlet or ivory boats on the lakes, others sat under theblossoming trees. There seemed, indeed, no end to them, and to Anne'sgreat astonishment, neither they nor her six companions seemed small now, also, to her great delight, she was dressed as beautifully as any of them, and wore as beautiful jewels. Though she did not know it, she had shrunkto their size, and a very lovely little fairy she made. 

Her gown was of white silk, with a long train bordered all round withtrails of green ivy, and over her shoulders she wore a long green silkcloak with a little scarlet hood. Her hair looked as though it had beendressed by a Court hairdresser, and amidst the puffs and curls sparkledemeralds and diamonds, like trembling stars. Her little green slippershad silver heels, and diamond buckles on the toes, round her waist hung adiamond girdle, on her neck, too, and fingers gems sparkled and flashedwith every movement. 

Oh, how proud and delighted Anne did feel, and how eagerly she hoped thatshe might always live like this! Instead of having one cavalier as mostof the ladies had, she had six, but the one with the red feather was herfavourite, and hour by hour he and Anne grew more deeply in love with oneanother. 

Unfortunately, though, the other five began to grow very jealous, and theykept such a watch on Anne and her friend, that the poor lovers had nochance to get away and talk by themselves, or exchange even a look, or akiss, or a handclasp. 

However, when people are determined they usually succeed in the end, and one day Anne and her handsome lover managed to slip away unobserved. Hand in hand they ran to a garden which lay at some little distance fromthe others, one that was seldom used, too, and where the flowers grew sotall and in such profusion that they soon were completely hidden amongstthem. 

Here they made their home, and here they lived for a time as happily asany two people could who loved each other more than all the world beside. 

Alas, though, their happiness was too great to last! They had not been intheir beautiful retreat very long, when one day they heard a great noiseand disturbance, and to Anne's dismay the five little men followed by acrowd of fairies, equally angered, burst in on them. They had traced thelovers to the garden, and even to the lily-bell in which they had madetheir home. With drawn swords and faces full of anger, they surroundedthe lily and commanded the lovers to come down. Nearly mad with jealousyas they were, they heaped the most cruel and insulting speeches on thepoor little pair. 

Furious with indignation Anne's lover sprang down, sword in hand, andfaced his attackers, but what could one do against such odds? His swordwas knocked out of his hand, he himself was overpowered by the numbers whohurled themselves on him. For a while he fought desperately, his back tothe wall, his courage unfailing, but the blows fell on him so fast andfurious, that in a few minutes he lay bleeding and lifeless at poor Anne'sfeet. 

What happened next Anne never knew. She remembered looking down on herdead lover through eyes almost blind with tears, she remembered seeing hisblood staining her dainty green slippers, and splashing her gown, thensomeone passed a hand over her eyes, and she could see nothing. She wasas blind as she had been once before. 

All about her she heard strange noises, like the whirring and buzzing ofnumberless insects; she felt herself being carried through the air at aterrific rate, until her breath was quite taken away, --then she was placedon a seat, and in a moment her sight came back to her. 

She was back in the arbour where she had first seen the fairies, but, instead of six little men, she now saw about six-and-twenty big men andwomen all staring at her with frightened eyes and open mouths. 

"She's very bad, " they were whispering, "poor maid, she do look ill!'Tis a fit she's had, and no mistake!" Then seeing her open her eyes andlook about her, they crowded nearer. "Why, Anne, child, you've been in afit, haven't 'ee?"

Anne lifted her arm and looked at it and her hand; there was not asingle jewel on either. She glanced down over her gown, --it was oflinsey-woolsey, not silk or velvet. She closed her eyes again that theymight not see the tears that sprang to them. 

"I don't know if I've been in a fit, " she said wearily, but to herself sheadded sadly, "I know, though, that I've been in love. "

BARKER AND THE BUCCAS. 

Perhaps some of you have never heard about the 'Buccas, ' or 'Knockers, 'as some people call them, the busy little people about the same size aspiskies, who are said to be the souls of the Jews who used to work in thetin mines in Cornwall. 

The Buccas live always in rocks, mines, or wells, and they workincessantly pickaxing, digging, sifting, etc. , from one year's end to theother, except on Christmas Day, Easter Day, All Saints' Day, and the Jews'Sabbath. On those days their little tools are laid aside, and all isquiet, but on every other you can, if you listen, hear them hammer, hammer, dig, dig, and their tongues chattering all the time. 

A lot of these little people lived and worked within the sides of a wellin one particular part of Cornwall, the name of which I will not tell you, for in the first place you would not be able to pronounce it if I did;and in the second, you might be tempted to go there and disturb them, which would make them angry, and bring all kinds of ill-luck and troubleupon yourself. 

The story I am going to tell you is of someone who did disturb them, andpried upon them after laughing at them. The name of the youth was Barker, a great, idle, hulking fellow, who lived in the neighbourhood of the wellwhere these little Buccas dwelt. 

Now this Barker often heard the neighbours talking about the Buccas, andpraising their industry, and, like most idle people, he disliked hearingothers praised for doing what he knew he ought to do but would not. So, to annoy the neighbours, and the Buccas, too, he declared he "didn'tbelieve there wasn't no such things. Seeing was believing, and when theyshowed him a Bucca 'twould be soon enough for him to b'lieve there wassuch things. " And he repeated this every time the little men werementioned. 

"'Tis nowt but dreams, " he sneered, "there ba'nt no Buccas in Fairy Well, no more nor I'm a Bucca. "

"You a Bucca!" cried the neighbours, "why, they wouldn't own such a lazygood-for-nothing. They does more work in a morning than you'd get throughin a year, you who never does a hand's-turn for anybody and haven't senseenough to earn your own bread!"

"I've sense enough to find out if there's any such things as Buccas inthat there well, and I'll go there and watch and listen till I finds outsomething, and if there's Buccas there I'll catch one!"

So away he went to spend his time idly lying amidst the tall grass andferns which grew thickly around the well. This sort of job suited him toa nicety, for the sun was warm and pleasant, and he did no work, for, saidhe, if he was to work he wouldn't be able to hear any sounds that mightcome from below. And for once he spoke the truth. 

Day after day Barker went and lay by the Fairy Well, and at first he heardnever a sound but the birds singing, and the bees humming, and his ownbreathing. By and by, though, other sounds began to make themselves heardby him, noises of digging and hammering, and numbers of little voicestalking and laughing merrily. 

Barker could not at first make out what they said, but he could understandthat they were always busy. Instead, though, of taking them as anexample, the lazy fellow only said to himself gleefully that if othersworked so hard, there was the less need for him to do so!

Having discovered that his neighbours were right, and that there reallywere such people as Buccas, you would have thought that he would havehurried home to tell of his discoveries; but no, he liked the lazy life, lying in the sun by the well, doing nothing. So he kept quiet about hisdiscovery, and every day started off for his favourite spot, making theexcuse that he was still watching for Buccas. 

As the days passed by he began to understand what the little workmen said, and he gathered from their talk that they worked in sets, and that eachset worked for eight hours, --which was, of course, the origin of the EightHours Day we hear so much about. He also found that when they hadfinished they hid away their tools, and every day in a fresh place. I cannot tell you why they hid them, or from whom, unless it was thoseother 'little people, ' the Fairies and Piskies, who love to be up tomischief when they are not doing good. It could not have been from eachother that they hid the things, for they talked together about thehiding-places. 

One evening, when the day's work was coming to an end, Barker heard theusual discussion begin. "I shall hide mine in this cleft in the rock, "said one. 

"Very well, then I will hide mine under the ferns. "

"Oh, " said a third, "I shall leave mine _on Barker's knee_. "

You may be sure it gave Barker quite a shock to hear his own name spokenin those mysterious regions, it frightened him, too, but before he couldstir his big, lazy body and run away, --as he meant to do, --he felt threehard blows, bang! whack! bang! and then a heavy weight fell crash upon hisknee. 

Barker roared and bellowed like a great calf, for the pain was very great, and he was a big coward. 

"Take it away! take it away!" he cried, but the only answer was peal uponpeal of mocking laughter. "Oh my poor knee, oh my poor knee, I'm lame forlife! Take away them tools! Oh my, oh my!" but the more he screamed, the more the Buccas laughed. They laughed and laughed until they weretired, then they vanished, and Master Barker was left to make his way homeas best he could. He did not want to tell the neighbours how he got hisstiff knee, but pretended he had had a fall; the neighbours, though, soon found out, and pretty well he was laughed at for a long time whereverhe went. 

Never again did Barker doubt the existence of the Buccas, never again didhe speak disrespectfully of them, nor could he forget the lesson he hadbeen taught, for to his dying day he had a stiff knee, and nothing wouldcure it. 

Now, if ever you hear of anyone having 'Barker's knee' you will know thathe has spoken rudely of the Buccas, and that the Buccas have paid him out. 

LUTEY AND THE MERMAID. 

One lovely summer evening many, many years ago, an old man named Lutey wasstanding on the seashore not far from that beautiful bit of coast calledthe Lizard. 

On the edge of the cliff above him stood a small farm, and here he lived, spending his time between farming, fishing, and, we must admit it, smuggling, too, whenever he got a chance. This summer evening he hadfinished his day's work early, and while waiting for his supper hestrolled along the sands a little way, to see if there was any wreckage tobe seen, for it was long since he had had any luck in that way, and he wasvery much put out about it. 

This evening, though, he was no luckier than he had been before, and hewas turning away, giving up his search as hopeless, when from somewhereout seaward came a long, low, wailing cry. It was not the melancholy cryof a gull, but of a woman or child in distress. 

Lutey stopped, and listened, and looked back, but, as far as he could see, not a living creature was to be seen on the beach but himself. Even though while he listened the sound came wailing over the sand again, and this time left no doubt in his mind. It was a voice. Someone was introuble, evidently, and calling for help. 

Far out on the sands rose a group of rocks which, though covered at highwater, were bare now. It was about half ebb, and spring tide, too, so thesea was further out than usual, so far, in fact, that a wide bar of sandstretched between the rocks and the sea. It was from these rocks that thecry seemed to come, and Lutey, feeling sure that someone was out there indistress, turned and walked back quickly to see if he could give any help. 

As he drew near he saw that there was no one on the landward side, so hehurried round to the seaward, --and there, to his amazement, his eyes met asight which left him almost speechless!

Lying on a ledge at the base of the rock, partially covered by the longseaweed which grew in profusion over its rough sides, and partially by herown hair, which was the most glorious you can possibly imagine, was themost beautiful woman his eyes had ever lighted upon. Her skin was adelicate pink and white, even more beautiful than those exquisite littleshells one picks up sometimes on the seashore, her clear green eyessparkled and flashed like the waves with the sun on them, while her hairwas the colour of rich gold, like the sun in its glory, and with a ripplein it such as one sees on the sea on a calm day. 

This wonderful creature was gazing mournfully out at the distant sea, and uttering from time to time the pitiful cry which had first attractedLutey's attention. She was evidently in great distress, but how to offerher help and yet not frighten her he knew not, for the roar of the sea haddeadened the sound of his footsteps on the soft sand, and she was quiteunconscious of his presence. 

Lutey coughed and hem'd, but it was of no use--she could not or did nothear; he stamped, he kicked the rock, but all in vain, and at last he hadto go close to her and speak. 

"What's the matter, missie?" he said. "What be doing all out here byyourself?" He spoke as gently as possible, but, in spite of hisgentleness, the lovely creature shrieked with terror, and diving down intothe deep pool at the base of the rock, disappeared entirely. 

At first Lutey thought she had drowned herself, but when he looked closelyinto the pool, and contrived to peer through the cloud of hair whichfloated like fine seaweed all over the top of it, he managed todistinguish a woman's head and shoulders underneath, and looking closer hesaw, he was sure, a fish's tail! His knees quaked under him, at thatsight, for he realized that the lovely lady was no other than a mermaid!

She, though, seemed as frightened as he was, so he summoned up his courageto speak to her again, for it is always wise to be kind to mermaids, andto avoid offending them, for if they are angry there is no knowing whatharm they may do to you. 

"Don't be frightened, lady, " he said coaxingly; "I wouldn't hurt 'ee forthe world, I wouldn't harm a living creature. I only wants to know whatyour trouble is. "

While he was speaking, the maiden had raised her head slightly above thewater, and now was gazing at him with eyes the like of which he had neverseen before. "I 'opes she understands Carnish, " he added to himself, "for 'tis the only langwidge I'm fluent in. "

"Beautiful sir, " she replied in answer to his thoughts, "we sea-folk canunderstand all languages, for we visit the coast of every land, and allthe tribes of the world sail over our kingdom, and oft-times come downthrough the waters to our home. The greatest kindness you can do me is togo away. You are accustomed to women who walk, covered with silks andlaces. We could not wear such in our world, sporting in the waves, swimming into caverns, clambering into sunken ships. You cannot realizeour free and untrammelled existence. "

"Now, my lovely lady, " said old Lutey, who did not understand a half ofwhat she was saying, "don't 'ee think anything about such trifles, but stop your tears and tell me what I can do for 'ee. For, for sure, I can help 'ee somehow. Tell me how you come'd here, and where you wantsto get to. "

So the fair creature floated higher in the water, and, gradually growingbraver, she presently climbed up and perched herself on the rock whereLutey had first seen her. Her long hair fell about her like a gloriousmantle, and she needed no other, for it quite covered her. Holding in herhand her comb and mirror, and glancing from time to time at the latter, she told the old man her story. 

"Only a few hours ago, " she said sadly, "I was sporting about with myhusband and children, as happy as a mermaiden could be. At length, growing weary, we all retired to rest in one of the caverns at Kynance, and there on a soft couch of seaweed my husband laid himself down tosleep. The children went off to play, and I was left alone. For sometime I watched the crabs playing in the water, or the tiny fish at thebottom of the pools, but the sweet scent of flowers came to me from thegardens of your world, borne on the light breeze, and I felt I must go andsee what these flowers were like whose breath was so beautiful, for wehave nothing like it in our dominions. Exquisite sea-plants we have, butthey have no sweet perfume. 

"Seeing that my husband was asleep, and the children quite happy and safe, I swam off to this shore, but when here I found I could not get near theflowers; I could see them on the tops of the cliffs far, far beyond myreach, so I thought I would rest here for a time, and dress my hair, whilebreathing in their sweetness. 

"I sat on, dreaming of your world and trying to picture to myself what itwas like, until I awoke with a start to find the tide far out, beyond thebar. I was so frightened I screamed to my husband to come and help me, but even if he heard me he could not get to me over that sandy ridge; andif he wakes before I am back, and misses me, he will be so angry, for heis very jealous. He will be hungry, too, and if he finds no supperprepared he will eat some of the children!"

"Oh, my dear!" cried Lutey, quite horrified, "he surely wouldn't never dosuch a dreadful thing!"

"Ah, you do not know Mermen, " she said sorrowfully. "They are suchgluttons, and will gobble up their children in a moment if their meals area little late. Scores of my children have been taken from me. That ishow it is, " she explained, "that you do not oftener see us sea-folk. Poor children, they never learn wisdom! Directly their father begins towhistle or sing, they crowd about him, they are so fond of music, and hegets them to come and kiss his cheek, or whisper in his ear, then he openswide his mouth, and in they go. --Oh dear, what shall I do! I have onlyten little ones left, and they will all be gone if I don't get home beforehe wakes!"

"Don't 'ee take on so, my dear. The tide will soon be in, and then youcan float off as quick as you like. "

"Oh, but I cannot wait, " she cried, tears running down her cheeks. "Beautiful mortal, help me! Carry me out to sea, give me your aid for tenminutes only, and I will make you rich and glorious for life. Ask of meanything you want, and it shall be yours. "

Lutey was so enthralled by the loveliness of the mermaid, that he stoodgazing at her, lost in wonder. Her voice, which sounded like a gentlemurmuring stream, was to him the most lovely music he had ever heard. He was so fascinated that he would have done anything she asked him. He stooped to pick her up. 

"First of all, take this, " she said, giving him her pearl comb, "takethis, to prove to you that you have not been dreaming, gentle stranger, and that I will do for you what I have said. When you want me, comb thesea three times with this, and call me by my name, 'Morwenna, ' and I willcome to you. Now take me to the sea. "

Stooping again he picked her up in his arms. She clung tightly to him, twining her long, cool arms around his neck, until he felt halfsuffocated. "Tell me your wishes, " she said sweetly, as they went along;"you shall have three. Riches will, of course, be one. "

"No, lady, " said Lutey thoughtfully, "I don't know that I'm so set ongetting gold, but I'll tell 'ee what I should like. I'd dearly love to beable to remove the spells of the witches, to have power over the spiritsto make them tell me all I want to know, and I'd like to be able to curediseases. "

"You are the first unselfish man I have met, " cried the mermaidadmiringly, "you shall have your wishes, and, in addition, I promise youas a reward, that your family shall never come to want. "

In a state of great delight, Lutey trudged on with his lovely burthen, while she chatted gaily to him of her home, of the marvels and the richesof the sea, and the world that lay beneath it. 

"Come with me, noble youth, " she cried, "come with me to our caves andpalaces; there are riches, beauty, and everything mortal can want. Our homes are magnificent, the roofs are covered with diamonds and othergems, so that it is ever light and sparkling, the walls are of amber andcoral. Your floors are of rough, ugly rocks, ours are of mother-of-pearl. For statuary we have the bodies of earth's most beautiful sons anddaughters, who come to us in ships, sent by the King of the Storms. We embalm them, so that they look more lovely even than in life, withtheir eyes still sparkling, their lips of ruby-red, and the delicate pinkof the sea-shell in their cheeks. Come and see for yourself how well wecare for them, and how reposeful they look in their pearl and coral homes, with sea-plants growing around them, and gold and silver heaped at theirfeet. They crossed the world to get it, and their journeys have not beenfailures. Will you come, noble stranger? Come to be one of us whoselives are all love, and sunshine, and merriment?"

"None of it's in my line, I'm thinking, my dear, " said Lutey. "I'd rathercome across some of the things that have gone down in the wrecks, winesand brandy, laces and silks; there's a pretty sight of it all gone to thebottom, one time and another, I'm thinking. "

"Ah yes! We have vast cellars full of the choicest wines ever made, andcaves stored with laces and silks. Come, stranger, come, and take all youwant. "

"Well, " answered the old smuggler, who was thinking what a fine trade hecould do, if only he could reach those caves and cellars, "I must say I'dlike to, 'tis very tempting, but I should never live to get there, I'm thinking. I should be drownded or smothered before I'd got half-way. "

"No, oh no, I can manage that for you. I will make two slits under yourchin, your lovely countenance will not suffer, for your beard will hidethem. Such a pair of gills is all you want, so do not fear. Do not leaveme, generous-hearted youth. Come to the mermaid's home!" They were inthe sea by this time, and the breakers they wanted to reach were not faroff. Lutey felt strangely tempted to go with this Siren; her flashinggreen eyes had utterly bewitched him by this time, and her promises hadturned his head. She saw that he was almost consenting, almost in herpower. She clasped her long, wet, finny fingers more closely round hisneck, and pressed her cool lips to his cheeks. 

Another instant, and Lutey would have gone to his doom, but at that momentthere came from the shore the sound of a dog barking as though indistress. It was the barking of Lutey's own dog, a great favourite withits master. Lutey turned to look. At the edge of the water the poorcreature stood; evidently frantic to follow its master, it dashed into thesea and out again, struggling, panting. Beyond, on the cliff, stood hishome, the windows flaming against the sun, his garden, and the countryround looking green and beautiful; the smoke was rising from his chimney, --ah, his supper! The thought of his nice hot meal broke the spell, and hesaw his danger. 

"Let me go, let me go!" he shrieked, trying to lower the mermaid to theground. She only clung the more tightly to him. He felt a sudden fearand loathing of the creature with the scaly body, and fish's tail. Hergreen eyes no longer fascinated him. He remembered all the tales he hadheard of the power of mermaids, and their wickedness, and grew more andmore terrified. 

"Let me go!" he yelled again, "unwind your gashly great tail from about mylegs, and your skinny fingers from off my throat, or I'll--I'll kill you!"and with the same he whipped his big clasp-knife from his pocket. 

As the steel flashed before the mermaid's eyes she slipped from him andswam slowly away, but as she went she sang, and the words floated back toLutey mournfully yet threateningly. "Farewell, farewell for nine longyears. Then, my love, I will come again. Mine, mine, for ever mine!"

Poor Lutey, greatly relieved to see her disappear beneath the waves, turned and waded slowly back to land, but so shaken and upset was he byall that had happened, that it was almost more than he could accomplish. On reaching the shore he just managed to scramble to the shed where hekept many of the treasures he had smuggled from time to time, but havingreached it he dropped down in a deep, overpowering sleep. 

Poor old Ann Betty Lutey was in a dreadful state of mind when supper-timecame and went and her husband had not returned. He had never missed itbefore. All through the night she watched anxiously for him, but whenbreakfast-time came, and still there was no sign of him, she could notrest at home another minute, and started right away in search of him. 

She did not have to search far, though. Outside the door of the shed shefound the dog lying sleeping, and as the dog was seldom seen far from hismaster, she thought she would search the shed first, --and there, ofcourse, she found her husband. 

He was still sound asleep. Ann Betty, vexed at once at having beenfrightened for nothing, shook him none too gently. "Here, Lutey, get upto once, do you hear!" she cried crossly. "Why ever didn't 'ee come in tosupper, --such a beautiful bit of roast as I'd got, too! Where've 'eebeen? What 'ave 'ee been doing? What 'ave 'ee been sleeping here for?"

Lutey raised himself into a sitting position. "Who are you?" he shouted. "Are you the beautiful maiden come for me? Are you Morwenna?"

"Whatever are you talking about? You haven't called me beautiful for thelast thirty years, and I ain't called Morwenna. I'm Ann Betty Lutey, yourown lawful wife, and if you don't know me, you must be gone clean out ofyour mind. "

"Ann Betty Lutey, " said the old man solemnly, "if you're my lawful wifeyou've had a narrow escape this night of being left a widow woman, and youmay be thankful you've ever set eyes on me again. "

"Come in and have some breakfast, " said Ann Betty Lutey sternly, "and ifyou ain't better then I'll send for the doctor. It's my belief your brainis turned. "

Lutey got up obediently and went in to his breakfast; indeed, he was gladenough of it, for he was light-headed from want of food. His breakfastdid him good. Before he had finished it he was able to tell his wifeabout his adventure the night before, and he told it so gravely andsensibly that Ann Betty believed every word of it, and no longer thoughthis brain was turned. 

Indeed, she was so much impressed by his story that before many hours hadpassed she had gone round to every house in the parish spreading the news, and to prove the truth of it she produced the pearl comb. 

Then, oh dear, the gossiping that went on! It really was dreadful!The women neglected their homes, their children, and everything else forthe whole of that week; and for months after old Lutey was besieged by allthe sick and sorry for miles and miles around, who came to him to becured. He did such a big business in healing people, that not a doctorfor miles round could earn a living. Everyone went to old Lutey, and whenit was found that he had power over witchcraft, too, he became the mostimportant man in the whole country. 

Lutey had been so rude and rough to the mermaiden when he parted from her, that no one would have been surprised if she had avenged herself on himsomehow, and punished him severely. But no, she was true to all herpromises. He got all his wishes, and neither he nor his descendants haveever come to want. Better far, though, would it have been for him had itbeen otherwise, for he paid dearly enough for his wishes in the end. 

Nine years from that very time, on a calm moonlight night, Lutey, forgetting all about the mermaid and her threats, arranged to go out witha friend to do a little fishing. There was not a breath of wind stirring, and the sea was like glass, so that a sail was useless, and they had totake to the oars. Suddenly, though, without any puff of wind, or anythingelse to cause it, the sea rose round the boat in one huge wave, coveredwith a thick crest of foam, and in the midst of the foam was Morwenna!

Morwenna! as lovely as ever, her arms outstretched, her clear green eyesfixed steadily, triumphantly on Lutey. She did not open her lips, ormake a sign, she only gazed and gazed at her victim. 

For a moment he looked at her as though bewildered, then like one bereftof his senses by some spell, he rose in the boat, and turned his facetowards the open sea. "My time is come, " he said solemnly and sadly, andwithout another word to his frightened companion he sprang out of the boatand joined the mermaid. For a yard or two they swam in silence side byside, then disappeared beneath the waves, and the sea was as smooth againas though nothing had happened. 

From that moment poor Lutey has never been seen, nor has his body beenfound. Probably he now forms one of the pieces of statuary so prized bythe mermaiden, and stands decked with sea-blossoms, with gold heaped athis feet. Or, maybe, with a pair of gills slit under his chin, he swimsabout in their beautiful palaces, and revels in the cellars of shipwreckedwines. The misfortunes to his family did not end, though, with Lutey'sdisappearance, for, no matter how careful they are, how far they live fromthe sea, or what precautions they take to protect themselves, every ninthyear one of old Lutey's descendants is claimed by the sea. 

THE WICKED SPECTRE. 

There was once upon a time a good old Cornish family of the name ofRosewarne. Well-born, well-to-do gentlepeople they were, who had alwayslived in their own fine old house on their own estate, and never knew whatit was to want any comfort or luxury. 

The family in time, though, grew larger than their income, and their prideand their dignity were greater than either, so that in trying to supportthe large family according to their larger dignity, the poor little incomegot quite swallowed up and the whole family of Rosewarne became involvedin poverty and great difficulties. 

Mr. Rosewarne, the father of the last of the family to live on theproperty, employed for his lawyer and man of business an attorney calledEzekiel Grosse, and, as so often happens, as fast as Mr. Rosewarne wentdown in the world, his lawyer went up. 

Ezekiel grew rich, no one knew how, and prospered in every way; Mr. Rosewarne grew poor, and lost in every way. Nothing on the property paid, and at last, to his great grief and never-ceasing regret, Mr. Rosewarnehad to sell his beloved home and everything belonging to him. Then, whoshould come forward to buy it, as soon as ever it was put up for sale, but his own lawyer, Ezekiel Grosse!

Everybody wondered, and most people declared that Ezekiel could not havemade such a large sum honestly by his business; that he must have otherand less straight methods of getting money. Anyhow, whether he made ithonestly, or dishonestly, he had enough to buy the estate he coveted, andas soon as the old family could turn out, he himself took up his abode inthe fine old house, and a very proud man he was. 

If, though, he was a proud man as he sat in the spacious library, orwandered through the lofty rooms and noble old hall, he could not havebeen a very happy one, and very little enjoyment could he have got out ofhis new possession, for, from the very hour he entered and took up hisabode there, such unearthly and mysterious noises, such fearful screamsand gruesome groans worried and haunted and dogged him, as made his hairstand on end, and nearly scared him out of his wits. A ghost, too, appeared in the park as soon as night fell. 

As Ezekiel crossed the park he would be suddenly confronted by a white, worn face and a pair of great, ghastly, luminous eyes. It would rise upfrom the ground in front of him, or pop round trees and bushes at him, or, on raising his eyes, he would find it confronting him over a hedge. Andbefore very long the ghost, not content with making noises in the house, and haunting the park, took it into his head to enter the house, and makethat his permanent home. 

When Ezekiel came face to face with him indoors, he thought he was notsuch a terrible ghost after all, and much of his fear left him, for theghost to look at seemed only an infirm old man. Indeed the lawyer foundhim less terrifying than the horrible uncanny sounds which seemed to comefrom nowhere, and could not be accounted for. 

By and by, though, the ghost's visits were repeated so often, and he beganto make such mysterious signs and movements, that the surly lawyer soonlost patience, and before long grew so seriously angry that he determinedto put an end to the annoyance and rid himself of his tormentor once andfor all. 

The very next night as Ezekiel sat alone in his office looking over somepapers, and making up his accounts, the ghost glided into the room asusual, and taking up his position opposite, at once began to make theusual mysterious and extraordinary signs. The lawyer was very irritable, he had lost an important case, and was out of spirits, he was unusuallynervous, too. For a while he bore the presence of the ghost and hisextraordinary behaviour with a certain amount of patience, then suddenlyhe lost his temper. 

"For pity's sake tell me what it is you want with me, and be done with it, can't you?" he cried angrily. 

The ghost immediately stopped his gesticulations, and spoke. "Ezekiel Grosse, " said he, in a hollow, ghostly voice, "Ezekiel Grosse, follow me. I can show you buried gold, the wealth for which thoulongest. "

Now no man in the world loved gold better than did the attorney, but hewas anything but a brave man, and even he himself knew that he was not agood one, and the thought of going alone with this uncanny guide, to somedesolate spot where no one could see or hear him if he called for help, made his teeth chatter and his knees tremble. 

He hesitated, and gazed searchingly at the little old ghost, but to savehis life he could not utter a word. He nearly suffocated with longing topossess the secret and know where the treasure lay, but he dared not ask;and all the time the spectre stood staring at him with unwinking scornfuleyes, as if the sight of the cowardly, trembling man gave him unfeignedpleasure. 

At length, beckoning Ezekiel to follow him, he turned and walked towardsthe door. Then Ezekiel, fearful of losing the secret and the wealth, threw aside every feeling but greed, and sprang to follow--at least, hetried to spring, but so firmly was he secured to his chair he could notbudge. 

"Come, " said the ghost imperatively. 

Ezekiel tried again, but great as was his longing to find the gold, hecould not obey. 

"Gold, " whispered the ghost in a whining, craven tone, "don't you hear me, man? Gold!"

"Where?" gasped the lawyer, making another desperate struggle. 

"Come with me, and you shall see, " answered the spectre, moving furtherthrough the doorway; and the lawyer struggled like a madman to get freefrom the chair and to follow. 

"Come, man, come, " shrieked the ghost in a perfectly awful voice. "Ezekiel Grosse, I command thee. " And with that Ezekiel, by a powerstronger than his own, was forced to rise and to follow the old manwheresoever he led him. 

Out through the hall they went, down through the park, and on and on byways the attorney did not know, until at last they arrived at a littledell. The night was pitchy dark, and nothing could Ezekiel see but theghostly figure gliding along ahead of him, all lit by a weirdphosphorescent light. In the dell was a small granite cairn, and here theghost stopped and looked around for the attorney. 

"Ezekiel Grosse, " said he, when Ezekiel had come up and was standing onthe other side of the cairn. "Ezekiel Grosse, thou longest for gold. So did I! I won the prize, but I found no pleasure in it. Beneath thosestones lies treasure enough to make thee richer than thou hast everdreamed of. Dig for it, it is yours. Obtain it and keep it all toyourself, and be one of the rich men of the earth, and when thou arthappiest I will come and look upon you. "

With that the spectre disappeared, and Ezekiel, overcome with fright andamazement, was left alone by the cairn. 

"Well, " he said at last, recovering his courage, "I don't care if you areghost or devil, I will soon find out if you are telling me lies or not!"A harsh laugh sounded through the darkness, as though in answer to hisbrave words, and once again the attorney trembled with fear. 

He did not begin his search that night, but taking careful note of theexact spot, he returned to his house to think over all that had happened;and what he decided was that he was not going to let any squeamishnessstand in the way of a fortune. 

"I'll tip over that old cairn, " he said, with a great show of coolness, "and I'll search every foot of ground under it and around it, and it shallnot be my fault if the treasure is not found!"

So, a night or two later, armed with a crowbar and other tools, away hestarted secretly, and found his way again to the lonely dell, where hesoon dispersed the stones of the cairn and began his digging. The groundwas hard and flinty, and the work anything but easy, but he had not far todig before he came across something, something hard and round, whichincreased his excitement until it nearly suffocated him. 

Feverishly he dug and dug, and cleared away the earth until at last he hadlaid bare a large metallic urn sunk deep in the ground, an urn so largeand heavy that though he used his utmost strength, and his strength bythat time was almost that of a madman, he could not move it, much lesscarry it home with him; and having brought no light he could not evenexamine it. So all he could do that night was to cover it over again withearth, and replace the stones on the top so that no one, coming upon it, should guess that the cairn had been touched. Ezekiel scarcely knew howto live through the next twenty-four hours, and as soon as it was dark onthe following evening he crept out of his house, with a dark lanternconcealed beneath his cloak. 

He knew his way to the dell so well now that he reached there veryquickly, and with very little trouble he threw down the cairn and laidbare the urn again. By the light of the lantern he soon forced open thelid, in spite of the trembling of his eager, covetous fingers. The lidoff he went to plunge his hand in boldly, when to his unspeakable delighthe found the thing full to the brim of gold coins of all sorts and sizes, and from all countries, coins of the rarest and most valuable description!

Glancing round every now and then to see that he was not followed, or thatno one had come upon him accidentally, he loaded every pocket in hisclothing with his treasure, then he buried the urn, rebuilt the cairn, andhurried back to his house anxious to conceal his wealth in a place ofsafety. 

From that time forward, whenever he could get out without arousing thesuspicions of his servants, he went night after night to the cairn, untilhe had brought away every coin, and had them all carefully hidden inRosewarne House. 

And now, his treasure safe, himself the richest man in the county, Ezekiel Grosse began to feel perfectly happy. He built new wings on tothe old house, he laid out the gardens, and made improvements everywhere;even in his own clothing and his personal appearance. 

The people round could not help noticing the changes that were takingplace, the money that was being spent, and the improvements that werebeing made. You may be quite sure, too, that the attorney took care toparade his wealth, for, having money, a fine house, fine clothes, andcarriages and servants, indeed, everything but friends, he began to wantfriends too, and people to whom to show off his grandeur. 

And before very long, though everyone knew his character, and what he hadbeen and what he had done, the neighbouring gentry began to seek hisacquaintance, and many of them declared themselves his friends. 

After that the attorney broke forth in quite a new way, he began to giveentertainments more lavish and splendid than anything of the kind everknown in the county. Everyone flocked to him, people plotted andstruggled to get invitations from him. They quite ignored the fact thatbut a little while before he had been a poor rogue of an attorney whomthey all despised, and that he had come by his wealth by means which noone had been able to fathom. They all seemed to be bewitched, to be undersome spell. 

High revels were constantly held at Rosewarne House, now, and the gayestand liveliest of all the people gathered there was the master himself. He was as happy at this time as a man could be, and a great part of hishappiness was due to the fact that he had never set eyes on his ghostlyvisitor since the night he conducted him to the treasure in the dell. 

Months went by, the feastings and gaieties grew more and more splendid, the hospitality more and more profuse, those who had not his acquaintance, craved it, and everyone bowed before the 'Lord of Rosewarne, ' as in timehe came to be called. 

Indeed, he went about as though he were the lord of the whole county, andeveryone his inferior. He travelled always in a chaise and four, he keptnumberless carriages, horses, servants. He was elected to every highposition in the county, and he was never tired of preaching of the beautyof honesty and uprightness, and our duty to our poorer brethren. 

So things went on until one Christmas Eve, when there was gathered atRosewarne a large company of the most beautiful and well-born of all thefamilies in Cornwall. Such a gathering had seldom been seen as wasgathered that night in the great hall for the ball Ezekiel Grosse wasgiving; and in the kitchen was an equally large party engaged in the sameform of enjoyment. 

Food and wine were provided in lavish profusion, everything was on a mostsumptuous scale. Merriment ran high, everyone was in the gayest ofspirits, and gayest of all was Ezekiel. Now he felt the power of wealth, now he was positive that all other things were as nothing to it; for hadit not made him the most popular, the most important, the most welcomedand sought-after man in the county?

All had just reached the very highest pitch of mirth and excitement thatcould be reached, when a sudden chill, as though the hand of death were onthem, fell on the company! The dancing ceased, no one quite knew why, andthe dancers looked at each other uneasily, each frightened by the other'spallor. 

Then, suddenly, whence, or how come, no one knew, --in the middle of thehall they saw a little old man standing gazing at the host with eyes fromwhich darted a hatred which was perfectly venomous. Everyone wanted toask who he was, and how he had come, but no one dared. They looked atEzekiel Grosse, expecting him in his usually haughty way to demand whatright he had there;--but Ezekiel Grosse stood like a figure hewn out ofstone. 

It all took place in about a minute, and then the old man vanished in thesame mysterious way that he had come. 

As soon as he had gone, the host, who a moment before had been petrifiedwith terror, as quickly recovered himself, and burst into uproariouslaughter. It was forced laughter, though, unnatural mirth, as most ofthose present could not help feeling. 

"Ha, ha! my friends. What do you think of my little surprise? How do youlike my Father Christmas? Cleverly managed, was it not? But you all lookrather alarmed by his sudden movements. I hope my little joke has notfrightened you. Hand round the wine and punch there, then we will on withthe dancing again!"

Try as he would, though, he could not put new life into the evening'sfestivities, the mirth was dead, the pleasure overcast, for there wasstill that strange deathlike chill in the air. The guests, frightened, and convinced that something was wrong, made various excuses and one byone took their departure. 

From that evening everything was changed. Ezekiel Grosse and hisentertainments were never the same again. He never acknowledged anydifference, and he gave more parties, and issued more invitations thanever, but at every feast, every dance, every entertainment of any sort, there was always one uninvited guest, a little wizened, weird old man, whosat back in his chair and never spoke to anyone, but gazed all the time atEzekiel with stern, uncanny eyes which frightened all who caught sight ofthem. Indeed, the effect he had on the guests was extraordinary; underthe chill of his presence they could not talk, or eat or drink, or keep upany appearance of enjoyment. 

Ezekiel was the bravest of them. He tried to encourage them to talk andlaugh, --talking and laughing loudly himself all the time, but all wasunnatural. His apologies for his strange visitor were numerous. He wasan old friend who liked to come to him and see new faces and young life, but was too old to do more than look on. He was deaf and dumb, that waswhy his conduct was so strange. Sometimes the little old man sat unmovedwhile these stories were told, at other times, though, he would spring up, and with a burst of mocking laughter would disappear no one knew how. 

By and by, of course, Ezekiel Grosse's friends began to leave him. They declined his invitations, and omitted to include him in theirs, sothat in a comparatively short time he had not a single friend remaining ofall those he had spent so much upon. 

Disappointed and miserable, he soon became the wreck of his old self. Alone in his luxurious house now, save for his old clerk John Cull, hecould never be said to be quite alone, either, for wherever he went, or whatever he did, the spectre haunted him persistently. Under thispersecution the attorney became a brokendown, miserable man, with everyfeature stamped with terror. For a long time he bore with the mercilessghost without complaining, but at last he came to an end of his endurance. In heart-rending terms, with tears and piteous pleading, he begged the oldman to go away and leave him. He had been punished sufficiently, he said. But his prayers were poured into deaf ears. The spectre absolutelyrefused to go, and for some time stuck to his word. Then, at last heconsented, on one condition, and that was that Ezekiel should give up allhis wealth to someone the spectre should name. 

"Who am I to give it to?" gasped Ezekiel humbly. 

"To John Cull, the man you have overworked and underpaid for years. John Cull, your clerk and dependent. "

Ezekiel Grosse had been given wealth, happiness, friends, only to bedeprived of all, to be lowered in the eyes of all men, with not one topity him. This was the punishment designed by the frightful spectre, who was no more nor less than an ancestor of the family Ezekiel Grosse hadrobbed, the Rosewarnes. He had planned to punish the lawyer by whosewickedness his family had been robbed and made homeless, and he carriedthrough his plan. 

Poor Ezekiel Grosse did not live long in his disappointment and shame. He was found dead one day, with strange marks upon him, and people who sawit say that when he died the weird little spectre stood beside him with apleased smile on his face. As soon as it was dark, he disappeared, and the story goes that he took Ezekiel's body with him, for from that dayto this it has never been seen. 

THE STORY OF THE LOVERS' COVE. 

This is a sad story, --at least, some will think it sad! It is not aboutfairies, or giants, or witches, but about two lovers who loved each otherabove and beyond everything else in the world;--which is uncommon, for most people love themselves in that way first, and someone else next. 

These two lovers loved each other passionately and devotedly. They usedto meet in the Lovers' Cove, or Porthangwartha, --which means the same, --and many a happy meeting they had, and well did everything go until theytold their friends. After that there was such a talk and such a stir, andsuch hardness and misery, that the lovers never again knew what it was tobe happy. The parents said that they _should not_ love each other, --whichwas foolish, for they could not prevent it; that they should never meetand never marry, which was cruel, for this they could prevent, and did. So the poor lovers led a life of utter wretchedness, for they werepersecuted sadly, and were breaking their hearts for each other. 

At last their persecutors ended by driving the young man away. He determined to go to the West Indies. Then the relations congratulatedthemselves heartily that they had got their own way, and parted the loversfor ever. 

In spite of all their precautions, though, those two poor heart-brokenlovers managed to meet once more; and as it was to be their very lastsight of each other for they did not know how long, perhaps for ever, it was a very, very sad parting indeed. 

It was in the Lovers' Cove that they met, and there, under the frostylight of the moon, they bade each other their sad good-byes, and whilethey clung to each other for the last time, they made a solemn vow that, living or dead, they would meet again in that same place at that same hourof the same day three years hence. 

So the young man sailed away, and the girl lived with her parents, going about her duties quietly and patiently, and, in spite of hersadness, with a look of hope in her eyes that increased and increased asthe weeks and months slipped by. Her parents noticed it, and toldthemselves that she had forgotten the banished lover, and would soon learnto care for one of those they approved of. When, though, she had refusedto listen to any of the others who came wooing her, they began to fearthat they were mistaken, and were puzzled to know what it was that wasdriving the wistfulness from her face, and the languor from her step. 

So the long years dragged to a close, and at last, as it was bound to do, the end of the three years drew very near, and with each day the girl'sstep grew lighter and more buoyant, her eyes glistened and her lips curvedin a smile that was new to them. Now and then even a snatch of song burstfrom them. Her parents had no doubt now that she had quite forgotten thelover whose name had not been mentioned in her presence since the day hesailed. 

Then, at last, the three years were really past and gone, the last daydawned and wore away to evening, and then night fell, moonlit, still, beautiful, a fitting night for lovers who were to meet once more, whetherliving or dead. In the Cove it was as light as day, one could count eachwave as it rose and fell, and see distinctly the white foam at its edge asit broke on the beach. The sands gleamed like silver in the sad whitelight save where the rocks threw dark shadows. 

All round the coast the witches and wizards were busy manufacturing theirspells. High up on a cliff overlooking the Lovers' Cove an old woman, --not a witch, --was sitting preparing her herbs and simples, --which mustalways be done by moonlight, --when suddenly she was startled to see downin the Cove below her the figure of the maiden swiftly crossing the sands. The old dame, who recognized the girl, was startled for it was nearlytwelve o'clock, and in that part most people are in bed by nine. 

Swiftly and unhesitatingly the girl made her way to a rock far out on thesands, and close to the water. Up the rock she climbed, and sat herselfdown as though it had been noon on a fine summer's day. Did not she know, wondered the old woman nervously, that the tide was rapidly rising, andthe rock being fast surrounded? Apparently, though, the maiden did notknow, or care, for there she sat immovable, her face turned towards thesea, gazing at it with bright intent eyes, as though searching its facefor something. 

At last the old woman grew so alarmed she could endure the suspense nolonger. The girl's danger increased every moment, and she felt it herduty to go and warn her, and give her what help she could. So withtrembling limbs and fast-beating heart she hurried as fast as she was abledown the side of the cliff. The path, though, was rough and winding, andshe was old. At one point the end of the beach where the girl sat was cutoff from her view. It was only for a moment, certainly, yet when the olddame caught sight of her again, she saw, to her amazement, that a fineyoung sailor had also mounted the rock, and was seated close beside her!

He too, sailor though he was, seemed quite unconscious of their danger. They sat there on the water-surrounded rock, he with arm around the girl, she with her head on his breast, oblivious of everything but each other. 

"Oh ho! my young woman!" said the old dame to herself, "so this is how youpass your time while your lover is away! and after the way you pretendedto love him, too!" She felt quite cross, for she was very tired and veryfrightened and in no mood to smile at lovers' foolishness. She satherself down on a rock by the path they would have to ascend, determinedto await their return, partly to give the maiden a good sound scolding forher reckless behaviour, and partly to satisfy her curiosity by seeing whothe young man was who had won her heart away from the absent lover. 

The lovers, though, appeared in no hurry to move. There they sat clingingtogether, with the moon shining down coldly on them, and the watergleaming around them. The wind had died away until there seemed to bescarcely a breath of air stirring, and the sea lay as calm as a lake. The whole scene resembled Fairyland, with the lovers as two spiritswatching over the Cove. The tide rose higher and higher, and the onlysound to be heard in that lone, desolate spot was the lazy plash of thewaves on the shore, and around the cliffs. 

In a short time the water rose so high that the rock was almost covered;to get off it now the lovers would have to swim; yet still they paid noheed. They seemed lost to everything but each other. 

It was all so ghostly and uncanny that the poor old woman grew wild withnervousness and excitement. She called and called to them at the top ofher voice, but she failed to make it reach them. The plash of the wavesand the sighing of the gently heaving sea seemed to swallow it up. And when at last a wave came up and washed right over them, she shriekedaloud, distracted by her own helplessness, and covered her eyes with herapron. She could not bear to look and watch them being drowned. 

With her face hidden she waited, breathless, for their shrieks for help, --but none came. She uncovered her eyes and looked at the rock, --it wasbare, save for the water which now covered it. She gazed franticallyaround, first at the beach, then out to sea; the beach was empty, save forherself, but out on the sea were the two lovers, floating out on thescarcely moving waters, hand in hand, gazing into each other's eyes, smiling happily and without sign of struggle. Further and further awaythey drifted. Then across the still waters came the sound of sweet lowvoices singing, and in the stillness which hung over everything the verywords sounded distinctly:--

 I am thine, Thou art mine, Beyond control; In the wave Be the grave Of heart and soul. 

Slowly, slowly they passed out through the moonlit sea, sweetly chantingtheir pathetic song; until at last they turned and faced the shore; and inthat moment the old woman recognized in the sailor the lonely maiden'slover, who had been driven away by her parents so long before. 

One long look they took at the Lovers' Cove and the black rock on whichthey had met, then turned their happy faces to each other, their lipsmeeting in one long, long kiss, and while their lips were meeting theysank quickly beneath the waves. 

A few days later the maiden's body was found not far from the Lovers'Cove; and some time after news reached the village that on the very nightthat she had been seen with him on the rock he had been killed in aforeign land. 

THE SILVER TABLE. 

Off Cudden Point, in the parish of Perranuthnoe, there lies buried in thesea, treasure enough to make anyone who finds it, one of the wealthiestpersons in the whole county. 

Now and then, during the spring-tides, when the water is very low, small portions of it are found, just enough to keep up the excitement, and cause dozens of children from all the neighbourhood round to gatherthere in a swarm, to search among the seaweeds, and dig in the sands, and venture out in the sea itself as far as they dare. It is only aboutonce in a blue moon that they do come upon treasure, but there is alwaysthe hope that any hour or day may bring them a big find. 

Jewellery and coins, and silver goblets, are some of the treasures theyseek, but the greatest of all is no less a thing than a table, a large andmassive table, too, made of solid silver. 

I am sure you would like to know why they expect such a prize, so I willtell you. 

Many, many years ago there lived in those parts a very wealthy man. He was also a very wicked one, indeed it was said that he was no otherthan the Lord of Pengerswick, of whom you will have read in another ofthese stories. It was rather difficult to say for certain, for the wickedold man being an enchanter could go about in all kinds of disguises, so that only those who had the gift of 'second sight' could discover him. 

Anyhow, if this rich, bad man was not the Lord of Pengerswick he wassomeone just as wicked, and just as rich. I believe, though, it was thatold enchanter, and, at any rate, we will call him so for the time. 

The old gentleman had plenty of money and he spent it freely too, for itcost him no trouble to get. He ground it out of the poor, and in the mostcruel manner. As he got it so easily he did not mind wasting it, and hekept 'open house' as they call it, --that is, he always had a houseful ofvisitors, men and women who were nearly as bad as he was, and he providedthem with every kind of luxury, and pleasure, and amusement that he couldthink of. They rode pell-mell over the country on fiery, unmanageablehorses, breaking down the farmers' hedges, trampling down the land, hunting, shooting, dancing and gambling! They did anything and everythingthat was wild, and foolish, and exciting, in order to make the days passpleasantly. 

One very, very hot summer's day, though, when the sun was pouring downpitilessly, scorching up everything, and there was scarcely a breath ofair to be found, and it was too hot to dance, or to ride, or do anythingtiring, this gay crew thought they would like to spend some hours on thesea, where it was cooler than on the land. 

So the Lord of Pengerswick, always glad to show off his possessions, ordered his largest and most sumptuous barge to be set afloat, and storedwith every kind of luxury, and every sort of dainty thing he could thinkof, and the gay party went on board. Seated on silken cushions under anawning of cloth of gold, they began at once to feast on the marvellousdainties spread for them on a large solid silver table, and all the timethey feasted and laughed and jested, delicate music and singing waftedtowards them from the far end of the boat, to charm their ears if theycared to listen. 

While, though, the awning sheltered them from the sun, it also concealedfrom them a little cloud which presently appeared in the sky; and themusic, talk and laughter drowned the sound of a little breeze that sighedround the vessel. 

The little breeze sighed, and went away unnoticed, but presently returned, not little now, but very big, and determined to be heard; but they were, by this time, making such a noise on board, that even the louder breezewent unheeded, until, grown quite angry, in a gust of fury it struck theboat--and what happened next no one knows, for none were left to tell thetale, --except the breeze, and he went scuffling off to another point. 

This only is known, that where the barge had floated nothing was to beseen but a desolate expanse of water, but for years and years afterwards, when the wind was in the right direction, the fishermen heard sounds oflaughter and talking coming up from the bottom of the sea, the rattle ofplates and the jingle of glasses, and through it all the strains of sweetmusic, and deep voices singing. If the moon was in the right quarter andthe water very still, far down beneath the waves could be seen thegleaming silver table, and the wicked old Lord of Pengerswick and hisguests still seated round it keeping up their revels. 

The feasting must all have ceased by this time, though, for no sound isever heard now, and it is long since anyone has caught sight of thepleasure-loving crew. A part of the treasure has been cast up by the sea, and seized by the descendants of the poor people the old lord robbed, andit seems quite possible that if they only wait long enough, and the tidegoes out far enough, someone will be so fortunate as to find the silvertable. 

CRUEL COPPINGER, THE DANE. 

One of the most terrific storms ever known was raging on the north coastof Cornwall. The gale, blowing up channel from the southwest, broke withsuch fury on that bold, unsheltered piece of coast by Morwenstow, that thewreckers, who were gathered on the shore and heights above, had more thanenough to do to keep their feet. The rain came down in driving sheets, shutting off the sea from their eager eyes, so that they could see nothingof the prey they were watching for. 

Beaten down, drenched, well-nigh frozen, even these hardy men were on thepoint of giving way before the fury of the hurricane, when suddenly fromout the sheets of driving rain loomed a vessel, a foreigner. If she hadbeen a phantom ship, as at first they thought she must be, she could nothave appeared more strangely, suddenly, or unexpectedly. But it was nophantom battling so bravely, yet so hopelessly with the fierce waves, ploughing her way through them, defying their efforts to draw her down anddevour her. She rolled and lurched heavily, and was driven closer andcloser on to the jagged rocks of that cruel coast; her sails were in rags, and she herself was utterly beyond control. 

As she drew nearer, the terror-stricken faces of those on boardcould be plainly seen, clinging to each other or to the masts, praying, gesticulating, or too frightened to do anything but gaze withfixed and ghastly eyes at the awful fate awaiting them. 

Standing near the wheel was a man who, even at such a time, seemed to holdhimself apart from the rest. He was of gigantic size, towering above theheads of the rest of them. He had stripped himself of his clothing, andwas evidently awaiting a suitable moment to plunge off the vessel into theboiling ocean, and fight his hand-to-hand battle with death. At last theright moment came. Without an instant's hesitation he plunged over theside into the raging waters. Then rising again, in a moment or two, tothe surface, like a perfect Hercules, he fought his way through thebillows, his strong arm and massive chest defying their power. On, on hewent, now riding on the top of a huge boiling mountain of water, now downin the hollow, with the raging sea rising above him, so that it seemed hemust be swallowed and crushed in their embrace. 

Long the struggle continued, and the excitement on shore grew intense, for no one thought it possible that he could reach the land alive. But, after a terrible fight which would have exhausted anyone not endowedwith supernatural powers, his bravery was rewarded, and with onetremendous leap he landed safely on the shore, well beyond the deadlyclutch of the waves. 

All the people of the country-side seemed now to have gathered to witnessthe marvellous combat, men and women, on horse and on foot, wreckers, fishermen, and what not, --and into the midst of them all rushed thedripping stranger. Apparently not in the least exhausted, he snatched thescarlet cloak off the shoulders of an old woman, and wrapping it abouthimself, as suddenly sprang up behind a young woman, who was sitting onher horse watching the wreck, and urging the animal on to a furiousgallop, rode off in the direction of the young woman's home. The peopleshouted and screamed, for they thought the poor girl was being carriedoff, no one knew where, by the Evil One himself; but the strange cries, which they took to be the language of the Lower Regions, were only aforeign tongue, and the horse made for its own stable by instinct. 

When Miss Dinah Hamlyn and her reeking steed dashed into the courtyard ofher own home, closely clasped by a tall wicked-looking man wrapped in ascarlet cloak, the outcry was doubled. There was nothing to be done, though, but to give the stranger a suit of Mr. Hamlyn's clothes, and somefood, and very comely he looked in the long coat, the handsome waistcoat, knee-breeches, and buckled shoes. 

He accepted the clothes, and the food, and indeed all their attention, as a matter of course, and having informed them that his name wasCoppinger, and that he was a Dane, he seemed to think he had done all thatwas required of him, and settled down in the family circle as though hewere one of them, and as welcome as though he were an old family friend. 

Of the distressed vessel, and the rest of the shipwrecked crew, nothingmore was seen from the moment the big man left her. How or where shedisappeared no one knew, all eyes had been fixed on the struggling swimmerfrom the moment he leapt into the sea; and when they had looked again theship had gone, and no trace or sign of her or her crew was ever found onthat coast, or on any other. 

At first Coppinger made himself most agreeable to the people he hadappeared amongst, he was pleasant and kind beyond anything you canimagine. Miss Dinah Hamlyn thought him a very attractive man, indeed, and not only forgave him for his first treatment of her, but thought itsomething to be proud of. Old Mr. Hamlyn liked the man, too, and was askind to him as could be, giving him the best he had, and even at lastconsenting to his marriage with Miss Dinah herself, though against his ownfeelings. 

Coppinger had given out that he was a Dane of noble birth and greatwealth, who had run away to escape marrying a lady he disliked. Old Farmer Hamlyn did not like his daughter to marry a 'furriner, ' and heconsidered that people should marry in their own stations; but Dinahherself loved the man all the better for what he had told them, andbetween them they soon overcame the father's scruples, and the wedding-daywas fixed. 

The wedding-day had to be postponed, though, for Farmer Hamlyn fell ill, grew rapidly worse, and in a very short time was dead and buried. As soonas this was over a great change came over things. Master Coppinger beganto show himself in his true character, and a very black character indeedhis was! So black and so bad that for generations his mere name was aterror to the people who lived in that part of the world, and is detestedto this day. 

As soon as poor Farmer Hamlyn had passed away, Coppinger made himselfmaster and controller of the house and all in it, even to the smallestdomestic affairs. Dinah he persuaded to marry him at once, and hardly hadshe done so, when all the evil in his character made itself known, and asthough to make up for having so long suppressed his wicked passions, he utterly threw off all appearance of goodness or respectability, andpoor respectable Farmer Hamlyn's quiet, happy home became a den of thievesand vagabonds, and a meeting-place for all the lawless characters in thecounty. 

Then it very soon came out that the whole country-side was infested with abody of smugglers, wreckers, poachers, robbers, and murderers, over all ofwhom 'Cruel Coppinger, ' as he came to be called by the honest people inthe neighbourhood, was captain and ringleader. 

He and his gang worked their own wicked will, and the poor inhabitants ofthe place were completely in their power, for there were no magistrates, or rich men of power in that part, and no revenue officer dared showhimself. The clergyman was scared into silence, and Coppinger and hisband ruled the country-side. 

Very soon a regular system of smuggling was carried on. All sorts ofstrange vessels appeared on that part of the coast, and were guided bysignals to a safe creek or cove, where they were unloaded, and thevaluable, illegal spoil brought in and hidden in the huge caves, which noone but Coppinger and his crew dared to enter, for it would have meanttorture and death. 

By and by one particular vessel, the 'Black Prince, ' Coppinger's own, which he had had built for him in Denmark, became a perfect terror to allthe other vessels in the parts she frequented. Coppinger and his crewsailed the seas as though they belonged to them, robbing, murdering, and doing every evil thing they could think of. 

If a vessel chased them, they led her into such dangerous parts of thecoast that her whole crew invariably perished, while the 'Black Prince'glided out by some intricate passage, and got safely off. If one of thepoor landsmen offended any of the gang, away he was dragged to Coppinger'svessel, and there made to serve until he was ransomed, and as the peoplewere almost reduced to beggary by the rogues, there was very little chanceof the poor fellow's ever being free again. 

Wealth poured into their clutches, and Coppinger soon began to haveenormous quantities of gold, which he spent lavishly. Amongst otherthings he bought a farm, which bordered on the sea, but the lawyer to whomhe was to pay the money was taken aback at receiving it in coins frompretty nearly every country in the world, doubloons, ducats, dollars, pistoles! At first he refused to accept them, but a look from Coppinger, and a threat, made him change his mind. He accepted the coins withoutanother word, and handed over the papers. 

Of course, when Coppinger realized his power, and saw how everyonefeared him, he grew more and more daring. He closed up bridle-paths, towhich he had no possible right, and made new ones, where he had no rightto make them, and forbade anyone but his own friends to use them after acertain hour in the evening, and no one dared disobey him. Their roadswere called 'Coppinger's Tracks, ' and all met at a headland called'Steeple Brink, ' a huge hollow cliff which ran three hundred feet sheer upfrom the beach, while the vast, roomy cave beneath it ran right back intothe land. Folks said it was as large as Kilkhampton Church, and they werenot far wrong. 

This was called 'Coppinger's Cave, ' and here took place such scenes ofwickedness and cruelty as no one can imagine in these days. Here all thestores were kept, wines, spirits, animals, silks, gold, tea, andeverything of value that they could lay hands on. No one but the crewever dared to show themselves there, for it was more than their lives wereworth, the crew being bound by a terrible oath to help their captain inany wickedness he might choose to perpetrate. So it came to pass thatall, whether of his band or not, gave in to him, and were ruled by him asthough they were slaves and he their lord. 

His own house, too, was full of misery and noisy, disgraceful scenes. When John Hamlyn died, Coppinger had obtained possession somehow ofeverything belonging to him, with the exception of a large sum of moneywhich went to the widow. Coppinger meant to have this money too, though, so he began by getting small sums from his mother-in-law from time totime, until she at last refused to give him any more, and even his threatsand coaxings failed to move her. 

Cruel Coppinger was not a man to be baulked in any way, so he soon hitupon a plan. Taking his wife to her room, he tied her to the post of thegreat bedstead, then calling in her mother he told her that he was goingto flog Dinah with the cat-o'-nine-tails which he held in his hand, untilshe handed over to him the money he had asked her for. They knew quitewell that he would be as good as his word, and that refusal meant death bytorture to Dinah; so the poor mother was compelled to give in, and findingthat this plan answered his purpose so well, he repeated the performanceuntil he had had nearly every penny poor old Mrs. Hamlyn was possessed of. 

Amongst the numerous animals he owned, there was one favourite mare, --a vicious, uncontrollable creature, --on which he used to scour thecountry at a terrible pace, spreading terror wherever he went. He nevercared in the least how many people or animals he knocked over and trampledto death; the more weak and helpless they were the more he seemed to loveto hurt them. 

One evening, after spending a few festive hours at a neighbour's house, he was just on the point of departing when he happened to notice seated bythe hearth a poor little half-witted tailor, who always went by the nameof 'Uncle Tom. '

Uncle Tom was a very quiet, extremely nervous little man, well-known andpitied by all. He went from house to house all over the countryside, doing a day's work at one house, and half a day's at another, and in mosthouses he was given a meal in addition to his trifling pay, for everyoneliked him, he was always willing and obliging, and had never harmed anyonein his life. 

"Hulloa, Uncle Tom!" cried Coppinger boisterously, going up and layinga heavy hand on the thin, shaking shoulder of the little tailor. "We are both bound for the same direction. Come along with me, I'll giveyou a lift on my mare. "

The old man shrank away nervously, mumbling all sorts of excuses, for heabove all people lived in deadly terror of Cruel Coppinger, also of hisvicious mare, and the idea of being at the mercy of them both nearlyscared away what few wits he had. 

The sight of his terror, though, only made Coppinger more determined tofrighten him. He loved to torment so helpless a victim, and the otherpeople present, partly from love of mischief, but chiefly to pleaseCoppinger, egged the tormentor on. 

In spite of his struggles and entreaties they hoisted the poor littletailor on to the back of the prancing, restive beast, and held him therewhile Coppinger sprang up. 

No sooner were they both mounted than up reared the mare, danced round onher hind legs a time or two, and then sprang away along the road at a ratewhich it made one gasp to witness. Tom clung in sheer terror to his bigtormentor, afraid of falling off, yet afraid to stay on. Coppinger, guessing perhaps that the little man in his terror might spring off, undidhis belt, and passed it round the little tailor's body, buckling itsecurely around them both. Then, having fastened his victim to him, beyond all hope of escape, he urged the mare on to a more furious pacethan ever. They tore through the air at lightning speed. Tom shriekedand prayed to be put down, --to be told whither he was to be taken, --whatCoppinger meant to do with him; and pleaded to be killed at once, rather than tortured. They dashed on past his own little cottage, and hiswife at the door, catching sight of the pair, nearly fainted to see herpoor husband in the grasp of the tyrant. On they went and on, without signof stopping. They leapt ditches and hedges, animals, waggons, people, anything that came in their way, until, coming at last to a steep hill, they slackened their pace a little, and Coppinger condescended to speak. 

"I promised the Devil I would bring him a tailor, " he said, "for hisclothes sadly need mending, and I am going to carry you to him to-night. It will not be very hard work, and he won't harm you as long as you dowhat he bids you. "

So terrified was poor little Uncle Tom on hearing this awful fate, that hehad a fit then and there from fright, and the violence of his struggleswas such that the belt gave way, and he was flung from the racing mare, right into the ditch by the roadside. 

There he lay all night, and there he was found in the morning, not onlybattered and bruised and half frozen, but with his poor weak mind quitegone. 

"He would never sew for the Devil, " he kept repeating over and over andover again, "he would never sew for the Devil, nor for Coppinger either. He believed Coppinger was the Devil, and he might do his work himself, Uncle Tom would never work for such as he!"

Never again did poor Uncle Tom get back his reason, or do another strokeof work to support himself and his wife, --but Coppinger had had his joke, and thought it a very fine one. 

Countless were the cruel pranks he played on the poor, the helpless, and defenceless, until at last people became afraid to go outside theirhouses, and were afraid to stay in them, for every day brought some newwickedness done by him, and every fresh one was worse than the last. 

Coppinger had one child, a boy; he was deaf and dumb, and as uncanny achild as his father was a man. He was a beautiful boy to look at, withsoft fair skin and golden hair, but he had his father's cruel eyes, andhis father's cruel nature. From his babyhood his mischievousness andwickedness knew no bounds; any bird, or animal, or even child that camewithin his reach he would torment almost to death, and the more his victimwrithed and screamed, the greater was his delight. 

When he was but six he was found one day on the headland, dancing infrantic joy, and pointing with gestures of delight to the beach below. Hurrying down they found the mangled and bleeding corpse of a littlechild, his companion, whom he had enticed to the edge of the cliff, and, by an unexpected push, sent headlong on to the rocks beneath. From thatday he was always to be found on the tragic spot, and when a strangerpassed he would make unearthly sounds of delight, and pointing down to thebeach, dance and throw himself about in ecstasy. 

All this time Coppinger and his gang grew more and more reckless anddaring, until they were the scourge of the country-side. To what lengthsthey might have gone, no earthly powers can tell, but money became scarce, and times grew bad for them. Armed King's cutters came, not singly, but in great numbers, and tidings of danger were brought to CruelCoppinger by strangely dressed foreigners. 

And so, at last, things came to a climax, and deliverance was at hand forthe poor suffering people. 

Just such another time as preceded Coppinger's arrival, burst again onthat coast; the rain and hail came down in sheets, the gale blew furiouslyall day. At sunset a vessel appeared off the coast--full-rigged. 

Presently a rocket went up from the Gull Rock, --a little rock island witha creek on the landside, a spot where many smugglings had taken place. A gun answered from the ship, again both signals were sent up. Then, onthe topmost peak of the rock, appeared the huge form of Coppinger. He waved his sword, and a boat immediately put off from the ship, with twomen at each oar, for the tide is terribly strong just there. They nearedthe rock, rode boldly through the surf, and were steered into the GullCreek by someone who evidently knew the coast well. 

Then Coppinger, who was standing impatiently awaiting them, leapt on boardand took the command. 

Their efforts to get back to the vessel were enormous. Like giants theylaboured at their oars to force a path through the boiling, seethingwaters. Once, as they drew off-shore, one of the rowers, either from lossof strength or of courage, relaxed his hold for a moment; in an instant acutlass waved above his head, and one swift cruel stroke cut him down. It was the last brutal deed that Cruel Coppinger was ever seen to do. 

He and his men reached the ship and got on board. What happenedafterwards no one knows, for at the same moment she disappeared like someghostly, phantom ship, nobody knows where or how. 

Then, in even more fearful violence than before, the storm raged and beaton that coast. Hail, thunder, lightning, hurricanes of wind blinded, deafened, or killed all who were exposed to it. 

Round Coppinger's home it expended the very utmost of its fury;trees were torn up by the roots, the thatch was blown off the outhouses, chimneys fell, windows were blown in, and, as Dinah, terrified by theuproar and destruction racing round her, stood holding her uncanny childin her arms, through the roof and ceiling came crashing a monstrousthunderbolt, surrounded by flames, and fell hissing at the very foot ofCruel Coppinger's chair. 

MADGE FIGGY, THE WRECKER. 

Those of you who know Land's End, and that part of it calledTol-pedn-penwith, cannot fail to have been struck by a huge cliff there, in shape like a ladder, or flight of steps, formed of massive blocks ofgranite, piled one upon another, and on the top of which there is perchedwhat looks like, and is, a monstrous granite chair. 

'Madge Figgy's Chair' is its name, for in it Madge Figgy, who was awrecker by trade, used to sit and call up the storms, and here, while therough, cruel Atlantic boiled and lashed in impotent fury over the face ofthe ladder, Madge sat cool and unconcerned, keeping a sharp look out forany vessels coming in on that terrible coast. 

As well as being a wrecker, Madge Figgy was one of the most cruel andwicked witches in the county; and hour after hour she would sit in herchair plotting mischief, or hurling curses at any unfortunate person orthing who had happened to offend her. The poor country-folk were afraidof their very lives of her, and whatever wicked things she told them todo, they had to do them, for they knew her power and lived in terror ofoffending her. 

Amongst the witches she was the leader in all their frolics and revels andwickedness. Getting astride her broomstick she would fly right awayacross the sea to some foreign land, a band of her friends and croniesafter her, and right well did they enjoy themselves, --which was more thananyone else did who came across them while on their wicked revels. 

Madge Figgy's home was in a little cottage in a cove not far from herladder and chair, and this cove was a nest of a gang of the worst wreckersin Cornwall, gathered together by old Madge to help her in her cruel work. No one can count how many noble vessels they lured on to the rocks of thatdangerous coast, how many bodies they stripped and cast back into the seaagain; while as for the treasure they had divided amongst themselves!--they had quite enough to live on for the rest of their lives, even if theynever did another stroke of mischief. That, though, was not what theycared about. They loved wrecking and robbing, and all their evil ways, and would have been quite miserable if they had had to live quiet, respectable stay-at-home lives. 

Where all were so wicked there were none to shame them into being anybetter, and they flaunted their stolen riches as shamelessly as thoughthey had come by everything honestly. It was quite a common sight to seethe great, clumsy country-women and girls going about their work dressedin costly silks and velvets, all of the richest character and mostbeautiful colouring, digging and ploughing, cooking and scrubbing withvaluable jewellery on their great arms and their coarse red hands, sparkling gems in their ears, and very likely a tiara that would have madea queen envious, fastened round their untidy, unbrushed hair. 

Of all the crew, though, Madge and her husband were the very worst. Most of them did abide by the old saying, 'Honour amongst wreckers, ' butnot those two. If they could cheat or trick even their friends they woulddo so; and did, too, very often. 

One particularly stormy day, Madge Figgy sat in her great chair in highglee. A tempest such as was seldom known, even on that coast, was raginground her, and close on to the rocks below her was drifting a PortugueseIndiaman which she had lured in to be dashed to fragments on the terriblerocks by the boiling, maddened breakers which towered up like mountains, then broke and fell with all their force on the helpless vessel. 

Madge Figgy kicked her heels and clapped her hands with joy as shewatched, for the huge vessel laden with valuables of the costliest kindwas a prize such as they did not often get, and Madge in her mind wasalready reckoning up her gains. Far better for the Indiaman had shedropped her treasure overboard and sent it to the bottom of the sea, whereshe would be ere long; for Madge could tell at any distance what a ship'scargo was worth, and if it was a small one she let the vessel sail on inpeace. 

Up aloft was the old witch dancing and singing, and down below struggledthe perishing crew, captain, sailors, passengers, men, women and children, shrieking aloud for help, but seeing never a living creature coming togive them a hand. Their cries might have melted hearts of iron, but notthe hearts of those who were hiding behind the rocks watching with greedyinterest for the moment when they might go down and seize their prey. One by one the cries ceased as the sea swallowed up the poor strugglingcreatures, then presently the vessel broke up, and in on the waves camefloating cases, casks, chests, broken spars, mingled with the dead bodiesof men and women and little babies. 

As fast as they appeared they were seized on, and quickly stripped ofeverything that was of value, the ladies were robbed of their jewels anddresses, and even of their long hair, and even the babies were robbed ofthe necklaces which still hung around their chubby necks. 

When the bodies were stripped they were not thrown into the sea again, but were carried away and buried in a great green hollow near Perloe Cove, with a stone at the head of each to mark the spot. Though the gravescannot be distinguished now, the hollow may yet be seen. 

For weeks after the wreck of the Portuguese Indiaman, the wreckers werecontinually finding gold and jewels washed in to the sand, and now andagain more bodies were washed ashore, all richly dressed. Oh, it was afine haul the wreckers had after that black storm, but one very curiousthing happened such as had never happened before. 

Amongst the bodies washed in was that of a beautiful lady, dressed in therichest of robes, and wearing more magnificent jewellery than any of theother poor creatures. In addition to her jewellery, too, she had, fastened about her, a very large amount of money and treasure, as though, poor lady, she had thought that she could not only save herself, but agreat deal else as well. 

When Madge Figgy, who had claimed this body, had finished stripping it, she stood gazing at it very attentively for a long time. She appeared tobe troubled about something, almost frightened, in fact, and turning tothe rest of the gang she forbade them to divide any of the spoil, or evento touch a single thing. 

There was a fine row at that, of course, for they had all been counting ona rich share, and they vowed they would have it, too! They quarrelled, and fought, and a good deal of blood was spilt, but Madge took care ofherself and got the better of them all, too, for it would have taken morethan a gang of wreckers to outwit that wicked old woman. 

She declared that there was a mark on the body which she understood, though no one else could, and that if they divided any of the thingsbelonging to it, ill-luck would befall them all, and no one knew where itwould end. 

"Trust a witch to know a witch!" she cried. She got her way, as shegenerally did, for they were all afraid of her, and everything belongingto the poor lady was put into a chest which stood in Madge's kitchen, while the body was carried to the hollow and buried with the others. 

The very night, though, after they had laid her in her grave, a verycurious thing happened. Out from the grave there came, as soon asdarkness fell, a little blue light. For a moment it flickered and gleamedon the newly made mound, then glided swiftly away up over the cliffs untilit reached Madge Figgy's great granite chair. Up into the chair itglided, and there it stayed for a long time, a weird, mysterious gleam, looking most uncanny in the darkness. Then out of the chair it glided andmade its way to Madge Figgy's cottage, where it floated across thethreshold and straight to the chest where the dead lady's belongings lay. 

All the wreckers were watching it, and all, except old Madge, were verynearly terrified out of their senses. They felt sure that at last theirwickedness was to meet with its punishment, that the Evil One had come tocarry them away, and their hours on earth were numbered. 

Madge Figgy tried hard to laugh away their fears and cheer them up. She wanted no 'chicken-hearts' about her, men who would refuse to takepart in her wicked work, or even carry tales where she did not want themcarried. 

"Get along, you great stupids, you!" cried Madge, trying to put somespirit into them, "it will all come right in time. I know all about it!"

It took a long time, though, and the people began to lose faith in Madge'scleverness; for three long months the little blue flame crept out of thedead lady's grave at nightfall, glided to Madge Figgy's chair, and then tothe chest in the cottage, and nothing could stop it. 

At the end of three months, when the people of the Cove were feeling theycould not bear this thing any longer, there came to Madge's cottage oneday a curiously dressed stranger. From his appearance all who saw himconcluded that he was a foreigner, but from what part of the world he cameno one could tell, for never a word escaped his lips. 

Madge Figgy's old husband, who was home alone when the stranger arrived, was very nearly scared to death. Firstly because the sight of a strangeralways frightened any of that wicked crew, and secondly because of theman's signs and curious gesticulations. Old Figgy thought that he was amadman, sure enough. 

After some time, though, and a good many signs and misunderstandings, the old man gathered that the stranger wished to see the graves of thepoor souls who went down in the wreck of the Portuguese Indiaman. Old Figgy put on his cap readily enough to show him the way, only toothankful to get him out of the house; but as soon as ever they had startedon the right road, the stranger did not need any further guidance, he walked on by himself straight to the hollow, and making his way directto the grave of the Portuguese lady he threw himself on it passionately, and broke into the most violent outburst of grief imaginable. 

For some time old Figgy stood watching him in astonishment, until theforeigner, looking up, caught sight of him, and signed to him to go away;then returning to the grave, again, he threw himself on it once more andstayed there weeping and moaning until nightfall. 

When darkness crept on up rose the little blue flame from the grave asbefore, but, instead of going to Madge Figgy's chair it made its way tothe cottage, and gliding on to the chest, gleamed there with twice itsusual brilliancy. 

The foreigner, who had followed the flame closely, went, without letor hindrance from the old witch or anyone, straight to the chest, and clearing away with one sweep all the rubbish and lumber which werepiled on it, opened it as if he had known it all his life, picked outeverything in it that had belonged to the lady, then, without touchinganything else that the chest contained, closed it again, and, after givingliberal gifts to every wrecker in the place, departed as mysteriously ashe had come. 

Anything of his history, or whence he came, was never discovered, but fromthe moment he left Madge Figgy's cottage neither he nor the little blueflame was ever seen again by any of them. 

HOW MADGE FIGGY GOT HER PIG. 

Madge Figgy, as you already know, spent most of her life in injuringsomeone. After she had left her cottage by the sea, where she spent somuch of her time in robbing the dead, she went to live in St. Buryan, and there she spent her time in robbing the living, and doing any othermischief that came into her head to do. 

One of her victims here was her near neighbour, Tom Trenoweth, a hard-working, struggling man who spent all his days trying to make bothends meet, and mostly failing, poor fellow. Now Tom had a sow, a finegreat creature, on which he set great store, for when she was fattened upenough he meant to take her to Penzance Market, where he hoped to sell herfor at least twenty shillings, for she was worth that and more of anyman's money. 

As ill-luck would have it, though, Madge Figgy caught sight of the sow oneday, and from that moment she could not rest until she had got it forherself. 

Over she bustled to Tom's house in a great hurry. "Tom, " she said, "I've taken a fancy to that sow of yours, and I'll give 'ee five shillingsfor her, now this very minute, if you'll sell her. Four would be a goodprice, but I've set my mind on having her, and I don't mind stretching apoint for a friend. "

"I ain't going to sell her now, " said Tom, "I'm fattening her up formarket, and it's a long sight more than five shillings I'm thinking I'llget for her. So keep your money, Madge, you may want it yet, " he addedmeaningly. 

"Very well, " replied the witch, shaking her finger at Tom, and wagging herhead; "I won't press 'ee to sell the pig, but mark my words, before verylong you will wish you had!" and away she went without another word. 

Poor Tom! He did mark her words, and many a time he remembered them withsorrow, for from the moment they were uttered his sow began to fail. She ate and drank as much as ever he chose to give her, and seemed toenjoy her food, too, but instead of growing fatter she grew leaner andleaner, and from being a fine great beast, nearly fit for a Christmasmarket, she became a poor, spare-looking thing that no one would say'thank you' for. 

"Are you willing to sell her now, Tom?" cried cruel old Madge, popping herhead round the door of the pig-sty one day, when Tom was feeding theanimal. 

"No, and I wouldn't sell her to you for her weight in gold, " cried Tom, too desperate now to care whether he offended the woman or not. "So get home to your own house, you ill-wishing cross-grained old witch!"

Madge Figgy only smiled. "Don't lose your temper, Tom, my dear, " she saidsweetly, "'tis for me to do that. Just wait a bit, and I'll be bound thatbefore another week is out you'll be glad to get rid of her, even to me!"and away trotted the mischievous old creature, cackling to herself, andrubbing her hands with glee. 

"I'll fatten the pig up somehow, " cried Tom desperately, and he begangiving her more than double her usual quantity of food at each meal. He gave her enough, indeed, to fatten two pigs, and nearly ruined himselfto do it; but the more she ate the thinner she grew, and before the weekwas out she was merely skin and bone. "I can't afford to spend no more on'ee, " said Tom sorrowfully, and he made up his mind to take her to marketthe very next day before she got any worse. 

So, early the following morning they started off to walk to the market. Tom tied a string around the sow's leg to prevent her running away, butthere was little enough fear of her doing that, for the poor thing couldscarcely stand for weakness. In fact, she kept on falling down from sheerinability to support herself, and Tom had to pick her up and put her onher feet again, for she had not got the strength to get up by herself. 

After a long time, for they only went at a snail's pace, they came to thehigh road. "I believe I'll have to take and carry her on my back, " saidTom dolefully, "or we shan't get to market till night. " But hardly had hespoken the words when the sow took to her heels, and ran as if she hadbeen a stag with the hounds after her!

Poor Tom was nearly shaken to bits, and his arms were pretty nearlydragged from his body, for over hedges and ditches she went, and overeverything else that came in her way, dragging Tom after her, until atlast he had to drop the rope and let her take her chance, for his strengthwas all gone, and he had no breath left. 

As soon, though, as Tom let go his hold of the rope, the creature stoppedher mad race, and walked along as quietly and soberly as the best-behavedpig that ever breathed. She went, though, every way but the right one, and this she did for mile upon mile, taking Tom after her, until at lastthey came to Tregenebris Downs. 

Here, where the two roads branch off, the one to Sancreed and the other toPenzance, Tom caught hold of the rope again, and tried once more to leadher to market, but the moment she came to the cross-roads, the sow startedoff at full speed again, jerking the rope out of Tom's hand, and careeringaway by herself until she got under Tregenebris Bridge. Here, though, shewas forced to stop, for she stuck fast, and could not move backwards orforwards, for Tregenebris Bridge was a queer, old-fashioned construction, more like a big drain-pipe than anything, except that it was smaller inthe middle than at the ends. Consequently, as she could not go through itand come out the other side, and she would not come back, she had to staywhere she was. 

Tom did not know what to do. He could not reach her to pull her out, andall his holloaing and shouting was so much waste of breath. He pelted herwith stones and lumps of turf, first her head and then her tail, until hewas tired, but he might just as well have left her, for all the good itdid. She only grunted, and planted her feet more obstinately. 

At last Tom, being quite worn out, sat down to rest, and waited to seewhat she would do if left to herself, but though he waited and waited tillevening, the pig never budged. Tom, though, grew so hungry that he hardlyknew how to bear with himself. He had had nothing to eat or drink sincefive in the morning, and he had tramped miles upon miles since that time. 

"There don't seem much chance of the contrairy old thing's coming out, soI may as well go home to get some supper, " he said at last. "If anybodyfinds her they'll know she's mine, for there isn't such another poormiserable creature in the parish. So here goes. " But no sooner had hemade a start than whom should he see coming towards him but Madge Figgy. 

Madge was smiling to herself as she walked along, as though she were verywell pleased about something. "Hulloa, Tom Trenoweth!" she cried, pretending to be surprised. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, " said Tom, "that's more than I can tell you, but I ain't here formy own pleasure, I can assure you of that, and if you want to know moreyou can look under the bridge and find out for yourself. "

"What's that grunting in there? Surely never your old sow! Well, shecan't have fattened much if she's got in there! Are you in the mind topart with her now, Tom? What will you let me have her for now?"

"If you've got a bit of something to eat in your basket, for pity's sakelet me have it, for I'm famished; and if you can get the old thing out ofthat there pipe you're welcome to her for your trouble, " said Tomsullenly, for he felt small at giving in to his enemy after all. 

"I've got a beautiful new kettle loaf in my basket, Tom; take it andwelcome, do. "

Tom seized the loaf and began to eat ravenously. "Thank 'ee, " said he, pretending to smile. "I think I've got the best of that bargain, for anyway I've got a good loaf, and it'll take more than you to get outmy old pig!"

"Ha, ha!" laughed Madge Figgy, "I'm glad you are pleased, Tom, ha, ha!refused five shillings, and took a twopenny loaf! I'm pleased with myshare of the bargain, and I'm glad you are. " Then turning towards the pigshe called softly, "Chug! chug! chug! Come on, chug! chug! chug!"

Out walked the old sow at once, and going up to the witch, she trottedaway down the road after her as tamely as a dog. 

THE STORY OF SIR TRISTRAM AND LA BELLE ISEULT. 

Long, long ago, when Arthur was King of England, and King Mark was King ofCornwall, --for there were many petty kings, who held their lands underKing Arthur, --there was born in Lyonesse a little boy, a king's son. 

Instead, though, of there being great joy and rejoicing at the birth ofthe little heir, sorrow reigned throughout Lyonesse, for his father, KingMelodias, had been stolen away by enchantment, no one knew where. Nor could anyone tell how to release him, and the heartbroken queen wasdying of grief, for she loved her husband very dearly. 

When she saw her little son her tears fell fast on his baby face. "Call him Tristram, " she said, "for he was born in sorrow, " and as shespoke she fell back dead. 

Little Tristram wailed right lustily, as though he fully realized hisorphan state, and wept with pity for his own sad fate; and good cause hehad to wail, too, poor little man, had he but known it, for already thegreedy barons had cast their eyes on his land, longing to possess it andrule it. With only a baby boy standing between them and it, their way waseasy enough. His death could easily be accomplished. 

Fortunately, though, for him, and everyone else in the land, King Melodiaswas just then released from enchantment by Merlin the wizard, and camehurrying joyfully to his home, to embrace his beloved wife. Great was hisgrief when he found that she was dead, great was the moan he made in hissorrow. With great pomp and splendour he buried her, and for seven yearslived a lonely life, mourning her. 

At the end of that time he married again, but the stepmother hated littleTristram, the heir, and longed to destroy him, that her own child might beking. So one day she placed some poison in a cup for him to drink, buther own child, being thirsty, drank the poison and died. 

The queen, broken-hearted at the loss of her boy, and horror-stricken atwhat she had done, hated her stepson more than ever after this, and onceagain she tried to kill him in the same manner. This time, though, King Melodias, spying the tempting-looking drink, took it up and was aboutto drink it, when the queen, seeing what he was about to do, rushed in andsnatched it from him. Then he discovered her guilt, and his anger knew nobounds. 

"Thou traitress!" he cried, "confess what manner of drink this is, or hereand now I will run this sword through thy heart!"

So she confessed, and was tried before the barons, and by their judgmentwas given over to be burnt to death. The faggots were prepared, the queenwas bound to the stake, and they were beginning to light the fire whenlittle Tristram, flinging himself on his knees, besought his father withsuch entreaties to pardon her, that the king could not refuse. So thequeen was released, and in time the king forgave her. 

But, though he forgave her, he could never trust her again, and to protectlittle Tristram from her, he was sent to France, where he continued forsome time, learning to joust and hunt, and do all things that were rightand brave and noble; and seven years passed before he returned to his homein Lyonesse. 

Lyonesse was the furthest point of Cornwall; it joined what we now call'Land's End, ' and stretched out through the sea until it reached theScilly Islands, a wild, rugged, beautiful spot, washed on either side bythe glorious Atlantic sea. One day, though, that glorious Atlantic roselike a mountain above Lyonesse, and where in the morning had been abeautiful city with churches and houses, and fertile lands, in the eveningthere was only a raging, boiling sea, bearing on its bosom fragments ofthe lost world it had devoured. This, though, was long after the time ofwhich I am writing now. 

For two years after his return from France, Tristram lived in Lyonesse, and then it happened that King Anguish of Ireland sent to King Mark ofCornwall to demand seven years' truage that was due to him. But when thedemand reached King Mark, he and his knights absolutely refused to pay themoney, and sent the messenger back, with none too polite a message, to sayso. If he wanted the debt settled, they said, he could send the noblestknight of his court to fight for it, otherwise the king might whistle forhis money. 

King Anguish was furiously enraged when this message reached him, andcalling to him at once Sir Marhaus, his biggest and trustiest knight, senthim without delay to Cornwall to fight this battle. 

So Sir Marhaus set sail, and King Mark was troubled when he heard who wascoming against him, for he knew well he had no knight to match him. 

At last Sir Marhaus arrived, but he did not land at once; for seven dayshe abode in his ship, and each day he sent to King Mark a stern demand forthe money. 

The king had no intention of paying the money, but he sorely wanted aknight to fight for him. One worthy by birth and skill to meet this greatchampion; and in great ado he sent all over the country in search of sucha one. At last, when none was to be found at home, someone counselled theking to send to King Arthur at Camelot for one of the Knights of the RoundTable; but that could not be, for Sir Marhaus himself was a Round Tableknight, and they, of course, never fought each other, unless it was inprivate quarrel. 

When at last the news of all this reached young Tristram's ears, he feltvery greatly mortified that there could not be found in Cornwall a knightto fight for their rights, and his heart burned within him to go and savethe honour of the West Country. He went to his father, King Melodias. "It seems to me, " he cried impetuously, "a shame to us all, that SirMarhaus, who is brother to the Queen of Ireland, should go back and say weCornishmen have no one worthy to fight him. "

"Alas, " answered the king, "know ye not that Sir Marhaus is one of thenoblest of Arthur's knights, the best knights of the world? Beyond thoseof the Table Round I know none fit to match him. "

"Then, " cried Tristram, "I would I were a knight, for if Sir Marhausdeparts to Ireland unscathed, I will never more hold up my head for veryshame. Sir, give me leave to go to my uncle, King Mark, that I may by himbe made a knight. "

King Melodias could deny his son nothing, so, "Do as your courage bidsyou, " he said, and Tristram, filled with joy, rode away at once to hisuncle's court, and as soon as he arrived there he heard nothing but greatdole made that no one could be found to fight the Irish knight. 

"Who are you?" asked the king, when Tristram presented himself before him, "and whence come you?" he added, looking admiringly at the handsomestranger. 

"Sir, I am Tristram of Lyonesse; I come from King Melodias, whose son Iam; my mother was your sister. "

Then King Mark rejoiced greatly, for he saw in this stalwart nephew achampion for Cornwall, and, having knighted him, he sent word to SirMarhaus to say he had found a champion to do battle with him. 

"I shall fight with none but of the blood-royal, " Sir Marhaus sent backword; "your champion must be either a king's son or a queen's. "

Whereupon King Mark sent word to say that his champion was better bornthan ever Sir Marhaus was, and that his name was Tristram of Lyonesse, whose father was a king, and his mother a queen, and a king's sister. 

So it was arranged that the fight should take place on an island near, andthither Sir Tristram went in a ship with his horse, and his manGouvernail, and all that he could need. And so noble he looked, and sobrave, and of so good heart, that not one who saw him depart could refrainfrom weeping, for they never thought to see him return alive. 

So, on the island those two noble knights met, and Sir Marhaus was sad tosee one so young and well-favoured come against him. "I sore repent, "said he, "of your courage, for hear me that against all the noblest andtrustiest knights of the world have I been matched and never yet beenbeaten. So take my counsel, and return again to your ship while you areable. "

"Sir, " said Sir Tristram, throwing up his head proudly, "I have been madea knight that I might come against you, and I have sworn never to leaveyou until you are conquered or I am dead, for I will fight to the death torescue Cornwall from the old truage. "

So they lowered their spears, and without more ado the fight began, andsuch a fight as that was never seen or known before in Cornwall. At thevery first charge they met with such force that Sir Marhaus's spearwounded Sir Tristram in the side, and horses and riders were sent rollingon the ground; but soon they were on their feet again, and freeingthemselves of their horses and spears, they pulled out their shields andfought with swords. With their swords they slashed and smote each otheruntil the blood poured from them in streams, and so courageous were they, and determined not to give in, that they fought on and on until it seemedas though that struggle would last for ever. They hurled at each otherwith such fury that the blood ran down them in streams, dyeing the groundall round, yet neither prevailed in the least degree. 

By and by, though, Sir Tristram, being the younger and the better-winded, proved the fresher, and drawing up all his strength for one last effort, he smote Sir Marhaus on the helm with such force that Sir Marhaus fell onhis knees, and the sword cleaving through helmet and skull stuck so fast inthe bone that Sir Tristram had to pull three times at it with all hismight before he could get it free, and when it did come, a piece of theedge of the sword was left behind in the skull. 

Overcome with pain and shame at his defeat, Sir Marhaus with a mightyeffort raised himself to his feet, and without speaking one word, flungfrom him his sword and his shield, and staggered away to his ship. 

"Ah!" mocked Sir Tristram, "why do you, a knight of the Table Round, fleefrom a knight so young and untried as I?" But Sir Marhaus made as thoughhe did not hear the taunts, but hurrying on board his ship, set sail withall possible speed. 

"Well, Sir Knight, " laughed Tristram, "I thank you for your sword andshield; I will keep them wherever I go, and the shield I will carry to theday of my death. " So Sir Marhaus returned to Ireland, and there, in spiteof all that physicians could do, he soon died of his disgrace and hiswounds; and after he was dead, the piece of sword-blade, which could notbe extracted before, was found embedded in his brainpan. 

When the queen, his sister, saw the piece of sword-blade which was takenfrom her brother's skull, she asked that she might have it; and putting itaway in a secret spot she vowed a solemn vow that when she had found outwho had done this thing, she would never rest until she had had revenge. 

But about that time Sir Tristram, who had been severely wounded himself, was also lying at the point of death, neither knowing nor caring to knowof the blessings and praises showered upon him; and great was the griefthat filled the hearts of all the leeches and surgeons for whom King Markhad sent, for not one was of any avail, and the gallant young knight whohad saved the honour of Cornwall was more than like to die. 

At last, when hope was well-nigh dead, there came a lady to the court whotold King Mark that his nephew would never recover from his wounds unlesshe went to the land whence the poisoned spear came, for there only couldhe be healed. 

So, with all speed was a vessel prepared, and on board it Sir Tristram wascarried, and with his man Gouvernail, his dogs, his horses, and his harp, he sailed until he came to Ireland. Here they all landed, and SirTristram was borne carefully on shore, to a castle prepared for him, wherehe was laid on a bed, and there on his bed he lay day after day, playingon his harp so exquisitely that all the people crowded to listen to him, for such music had never been heard in that country before. 

By and by the news of the presence of this wonderful player was carried tothe king and queen, who were dwelling not very far away: and the king andqueen sent for him to come to them; but when they found that he was awounded knight, they had him brought to the castle, and there his woundwas dressed and every care taken of him, for now they all grew to have agreat admiration and liking for him. But who he was, or where he camefrom, they had no idea, for he had not told anyone his real name, or thestory of the joust in which he got his wound. 

Now in all that land there was no better surgeon than the king's owndaughter, the lady Iseult, --who, because of her loveliness, was known asLa Belle Iseult. --So presently the king, who came to feel a greater andgreater liking for Sir Tristram, and was anxious to see him well again, gave him over to the charge of his daughter, in whose skill he had greatfaith; for none other seemed able to heal him. 

So La Belle Iseult nursed him, and attended to his wound, and soon, at thebottom of it, she found the poison, which she removed, and quickly healedhim. Before this end was reached, though, Sir Tristram had grown to lovehis beautiful nurse, and she her patient; for La Belle Iseult with herflower-like face and large grey eyes, her broad, low brow, round which hergleaming golden hair waved softly, and fell in heavy waves to her knees, was wondrously lovable. And Sir Tristram was more than passing noble, and his manners were gentle and courteous. When he grew stronger hetaught Iseult to play the harp, and they sang songs together, so that theysaw much of one another. 

Someone else loved Iseult also, and this was Sir Palamides the Saracen, and many fair gifts he brought the lady to win her love. But ladies arenot to be won thus, and Iseult did not love the Saracen knight. Indeed, she besought Sir Tristram to joust with him and conquer him, thatshe might be rid of him, both of which Sir Tristram did, though SirPalamides had put to the worse many brave knights before, and most menwere afraid of him. Sir Tristram, whom Iseult had arrayed in whiteharness, rode against him on a white horse and threw him, and SirPalamides was sore ashamed and would have crept secretly from the field, and from the crowds of knights and ladies watching the jousts, had not SirTristram gone after him and bid him return and finish the joust. So Palamides returned and fought again, but once more Sir Tristramoverthrew him, and this time wounded him so sore that he was at his mercy. 

"Now, " said Sir Tristram, "swear to me that you will do as I command, or Iwill slay you outright. " Sir Palamides seeing his stern face, andremembering his strength, promised. "Then, " said Sir Tristram, "promise never more to come near the lady La Belle Iseult, also that for atwelvemonth and a day you will bear no armour, nor wear any harness ofwar. "

"Alas, " cried Sir Palamides, "I shall be for ever ashamed and disgraced, "but he had to promise, and in fierce vexation he cut to pieces the harnesshe then wore, and threw the pieces from him. No one but La Belle Iseultknew who the knight was who had jousted with the Saracen, until some timeafter; and when it was known, Sir Tristram was loved more than ever by theking and queen, as he was already by their daughter. 

So month after month Sir Tristram lingered on in Ireland, and did many anoble deed during that time, and there he might have gone on living to theend of the chapter, if it had not been for a sore mischance which befellthus. 

One day, while Sir Tristram was absent, the queen and the lady Iseult werewandering up and down his room, when the queen suddenly espied SirTristram's sword lying on a couch, and seeing it to be of fine workmanshipand delicately wrought, she lifted it the better to examine it, and sheand Iseult stood admiring it together. Then presently the queen drew thesword slowly from out its scabbard, and there, within an inch and a halfof the point, she espied the broken edge of the blade. 

Thrusting the weapon into Iseult's hands she ran to her chamber, where shehad, safely locked away, the piece of steel which had been taken from herbrother's skull; and bringing it back fitted it to the broken bladeexactly. 

At that her anger knew no bounds, nor her mortification that they shouldhave treated so well, and grown to love, the slayer of her brother. Sir Tristram happening to return at that moment, her anger so overmasteredher that, seizing the sword, she rushed on him and would have slain himthere and then, had not Gouvernail caught her and wrested the weapon fromher. 

Being frustrated she ran in a frenzy of hate to her husband. "My lord, "she cried, "we have here, in our very home, the destroyer and slayer of mybrother, your most noble and trusty knight. "

"Who is he?" cried King Anguish, springing to his feet, "and where?"

"Sir, it is this same knight whom your daughter has healed, and whom wehave loved and treated well. I beseech you have no mercy on him, for hedeserves none. "

"Alas, alas, " cried the king, "I am right sorry, for he is as noble aknight as ever I saw. Do him no violence. Leave him to me, and I willdeal with him according to my best judgment. "

So the king, who loved Sir Tristram, and could not bring himself to havehim slain, went to Tristram's chamber, and there he saw him dressed, andready to mount his horse. Then and there the king told him all that hehad learnt, and said, "I love you too well to do you harm, therefore Igive you leave to quit this court on one condition, that you tell me yourreal name, and if you really slew my brother-in-law, Sir Marhaus. "

So Tristram told him all his story, and then took leave of the king andall the court; and great was the grief at his departure, but by far thesaddest leave-taking was that between him and La Belle Iseult, for theyloved each other very dearly. And when they parted Sir Tristram swore tobe ever her true and faithful knight, and she, that for seven years shewould marry no one else, unless by his consent or desire. Then each gavethe other a ring, and with a last long kiss they parted. 

So Sir Tristram returned at last to Cornwall, and there stayed with hisuncle Mark, at Tintagel, and great were the rejoicings that he hadreturned recovered of his wound, and stronger and more noble-looking thanever. 

When, though, he had been back a little time, a great quarrel arosebetween King Mark and his nephew, and their feelings grew very hot andangry towards one another. It was about a beautiful lady that theyquarrelled, a lady whom King Mark loved more than passing well. He thought that Sir Tristram loved her too, and she him, and he was sojealous of Sir Tristram that one day he and his knights, disguised, rodeafter him to see if he had gone to meet her. And as Tristram came ridingback King Mark bore down on him, and they fought until the king was sowounded that he lay on the ground as though dead, and Sir Tristram rode onhis way. He never knew that it was his uncle with whom he had fought, butfrom that day to the day of his death, though they were fair-spoken toeach other, the king never forgave his nephew or loved him again. 

Indeed, he hated him so much that he ever plotted to injure him, and atlast one day he thought of a plan by which he could ruin Tristram'shappiness, and probably get him killed as well. 

Now it happened that when Sir Tristram had first returned from Ireland hehad told his uncle of La Belle Iseult, of her beauty, and grace, andskill; for his heart was ever filled with love and admiration for her, and to him she was the very fairest woman in the world. So to wound SirTristram, and to take a sore and cruel revenge upon him, King Markdetermined to ask her in marriage for himself, and to make his cruelty thegreater, he determined that Sir Tristram should be the knight who shouldgo to Ireland as his ambassador to ask her hand of King Anguish, herfather. 

Sending for Sir Tristram he laid his commands upon him, rejoicing in theheavy task he was laying upon him, watching him closely to note how hewould bear it. But Sir Tristram, though sad at heart and deeply troubled, bore himself bravely, and accepted the task; for to have refused it wouldhave been a cowardice and a shame, and not the conduct of a true knight. 

Without delay he set about preparing for his sad journey. He had madeready a large vessel, fitted in the most sumptuous manner possible, and taking with him some chosen knights dressed in the most goodly style, he set sail from Tintagel for Ireland. Before they had got far, though, a fierce storm burst over them, and beat their vessel about until she wasdriven back to England, to the coast of Camelot, where King Arthur dwelt, and right glad they were to take to the land. 

There, when they were landed, Sir Tristram set up his tent, and hanginghis shield without it, lay down to rest. Hardly, though, was he laindown, before two knights of the Round Table, Sir Ector de Maris and SirMorganor, came and rapped on the shield, bidding him come forth and joust. 

"Wait awhile, " called back Sir Tristram, "and I will bring you my answer. "Then he hastily dressed himself, and came out to the two impatientknights, and without much ado he first smote down Sir Ector and then SirMorganor, with the same spear. 

"Whence come you, and whose knight are you?" they asked as they lay on theground, unable to rise because of their bruises. 

"My lords, " answered Sir Tristram, "I am from Cornwall. "

"Alas, alas, I am sore ashamed that any Cornish knight should haveovercome me, " cried Sir Ector. And so ashamed was he that he put off hisarmour and went away on foot, for he would not ride. 

Now it happened about this time that King Anguish of Ireland was sent forto appear at King Arthur's court at Camelot, to answer a charge of treasonbrought against him by Sir Blamor de Ganis, and Sir Bleoberis, hisbrother; which was that he had slain at his court a cousin of theirs andof Sir Launcelot. 

The king, who had not known for why he was sent, was sore abashed when heheard the charge, for he knew there were only two ways to settle thematter, either he must fight the accuser himself, or he must get a knightto do so for him, and very heavy-hearted he was, for Sir Blamor was apowerful knight, and one of the trustiest of the Table Round, and KingAnguish knew that now Sir Marhaus was dead he had no knight in Ireland tomatch him. 

Three days he had in which to decide upon his answer, and great was hisperplexity as to what it should be. 

Meanwhile, Gouvernail went unto his master and told him that King Anguishwas arraigned for murder, and was in great distress. Whereupon SirTristram replied, "This is the best news I have heard these seven years, that the King of Ireland hath need of my help. I dare be sworn there isno knight in England, save of Arthur's court, that dare do battle with SirBlamor de Ganis. Bring me to the king then, Gouvernail, for to win hislove I will take this battle on myself. "

So Gouvernail went to King Anguish, and told him that a knight wished todo him service. "What knight?" said he. 

"Sir Tristram of Lyonesse, " answered Gouvernail, "who, for your goodnessto him in your own land, would fain assist you in this. "

Then was the king right overjoyed, and went unto Sir Tristram's pavilion, and when Sir Tristram saw him he would have knelt and held his stirrup forhim to dismount, but the king leapt lightly to the ground, and theyembraced each other with great gladness, and the king told his tale. 

"Sir, " said Sir Tristram, "for your good grace to me, and for the sake ofyour daughter, Belle Iseult, I will fight this battle, but you must grantme two requests. The first is, you must give me your own word that youwere not consenting unto this knight's death; the second, that if I winthis battle you shall give me as reward whatsoever reasonable thing Iask. " Whereupon the king swore to both of them, and then went to tell hisaccusers that he had a knight ready to fight Sir Blamor. Then King Arthurcommanded Sir Tristram and Sir Blamor to appear before the judges, andwhen they came many kings and knights who were present recognized SirTristram as the young unknown knight who had fought and conquered SirMarhaus of Ireland, and the excitement grew intense, for two lustierknights than Sir Tristram and Sir Blamor could not have been found. 

So the time was fixed, and the combatants retired to their tents toprepare for battle. 

"Dear brother, " said Bleoberis to Blamor, "remember of what kin you are, and how Sir Launcelot is our cousin, and suffer death rather than shame, for none of our blood was yet shamed in battle. "

"Fear not, " answered Sir Blamor stoutly, "that I will ever disgrace ourkin. Yonder knight is a goodly man, but I swear I will never yield, nor say the loth word. He may smite me down by his chivalry, but he shallslay me before I say the loth word. "

So the two champions rode to meet each other from opposite sides of thelists, and they feutred their spears and charged each other with so greatforce that it sounded as though the heavens were sending forth loudthunders, and then Sir Tristram by his great strength bore Sir Blamor tothe ground, and his horse under him. 

He was quickly clear of his horse, though, and on his feet again. "Alight, Sir Tristram, " he cried, pulling out his sword, "my horse hasfailed me, but the earth shall not. "

So together they rushed, and lashed at each other in fury, slashing andtearing, foining, and making such fearful strokes that the kings andknights held their breath in horror and amazement that two men could useeach other so, and neither give in. But so fierce were they that theirstabs and cuts might have been falling on men of wood, so little heed didthey pay. So fast and furiously they fought, that the wonder was they hadbreath to keep on; but Sir Blamor was the more furious, and therefore theless wary, so that by and by Sir Tristram saw an opportunity and smote himsuch a crushing blow on the head that he fell over on his side, and SirTristram stood over him. 

Then was Sir Blamor's shame piteous. "Kill me, Sir Tristram, " he cried, "as you are a noble knight, for I would not live. Not to be lord of thewhole universe would I endure with shame; and I will never say the lothword, so the victory is not yours unless you slay me. "

Sir Tristram was sore perplexed what to do. He could not bring himself tokill this noble knight; but for his party's sake he must, unless SirBlamor would say the loth word. So he went to the assembled kings, andkneeling before them he besought them that they would take the matter intotheir hands. "For, " said he, "it is a cruel pity that such a noble knightshould be slain, and I pray God he may not be slain or shamed by me. Ibeseech the king, whose champion I am, that he will have mercy upon thisgood knight. "

Sir Bleoberis, though, as hotly demanded that his brother should be slainoutright, until the judges gave him stern reproof. 

"It shall not be, " they said, "both King Anguish and his champion knighthave more mercy than thou, " and they went to King Anguish, and he, goodman, gave up his claim, and resigned the loth word, as each champion wasproved of good faith. And so it was settled, and so rejoiced were SirBleoberis and his brother, and right grateful for their goodness, thatthey swore eternal friendship to King Anguish and Sir Tristram, and eachkissed the other, and swore a vow that neither would come against theother in combat. 

Then King Anguish and Sir Tristram set sail for Ireland, with greatsplendour and gladness, and right welcome was Sir Tristram when the peopleheard what he had done for their king and for them. Great were therejoicings, and great the joy, but the joy of Iseult was greater than allthe rest together, for she still loved Sir Tristram with all her heart andsoul. Then as the days came and went, much did King Anguish marvel thatSir Tristram had not made his second request, but Sir Tristram was fain topostpone doing so, for he was heavy-hearted at his task. At last KingAnguish asked him, saying, "Sir Knight, you have not yet asked of me yourreward. "

"Alas, " said Sir Tristram sadly, "the time is come. I would ask you foryour daughter Iseult to take back with me to Cornwall, --not for myself, but to wed the king, my uncle Mark; for full well he knows how shesurpasseth all in beauty, and wisdom, and charm, for I myself have toldhim of her, until he desireth her greatly for his queen and lady. "

"Ah me!" cried King Anguish in amazement, and, "Ah me!" he sighed, "I would you had asked her for yourself, Sir Tristram. Right glad would Ihave been to have called you 'son!'"

"That can never be now, " said Sir Tristram gently; "I should be false tomy trust, and for ever shamed. My uncle commanded me to come, and I havepromised. "

So a great feasting and merry-making began, and all things were madeready for La Belle Iseult to sail to another land to be made a queen. Now whether the queen, Iseult's mother, saw that Sir Tristram and herdaughter loved each other, or whether she feared that her daughter mightnot love King Mark, no one will ever know, but she set to work to concocta love-drink, brewing it from delicate herbs and simples, which when readyshe enclosed in a golden flask. This she handed to Dame Bragwaine, La Belle Iseult's waiting-woman, bidding her guard it with all care, and not let it out of her sight until La Belle Iseult and King Mark werewedded, when she was to give it to them that they might each drink of it, so that a great and holy love should rise and grow between them, never todie until their lives ended. 

So, on a certain day a dainty vessel, all painted white and silver, andfurnished with the utmost richness and beauty, set sail from Ireland. At the prow glittered a golden swallow, all set with gems, and on boardwere Tristram and Iseult. 

Silently, swiftly they glided through the waters, the sun shone softly, the breeze lightly caressed the dainty, bird-like vessel and the whitefluttering canvas, as though afraid to breathe on anything so lovely asthe lady lying amidst her silken cushions and cloth of gold. Then itstole modestly away, only to return again, full fain to touch her goldenhair, or her delicate cheek. The scent of the land-flowers filled theair, for the vessel was gaily bedecked with all the fairest and mostdelicate. 

In this little nest of luxury sat Tristram and Iseult, he so stalwart, noble, bronzed, she so surpassingly beautiful, gentle and lovable. All through the long, warm days they sat listening each to the other'stalk, and when the sun went down and left them to the fair white light ofthe moon, they still sat and talked, or looked at each other, for the meresight of each filled the other's heart with joy. 

Oh the pity of it all! the pity of it! Such a nobly-matched pair wasnever seen before nor since. 

Iseult made Sir Tristram tell her of the battles he had fought, of thecountries he had seen, and of the people of this new land towards whichshe was hastening; for all was strange to her, and a great heavinessfilled her heart at the thought of King Mark and his court. 

That her mind might not dwell on it, she asked him of Queen Guinevere, the fame of whose beauty had spread to all lands. 

"Alas, alas for her beauty!" cried Sir Tristram. "It has been the undoingof many good men and true, who have died for love of her. Her beauty hasbeen a sore curse to her, poor lady. "

"Then, " answered Iseult, looking up at him with serious, innocent eyes, "right thankful I am that my face will never bring ill-fortune to anyman!" And Sir Tristram had to turn from her to hide his pain, for hislove for her was greater than ever. 

On and on they sailed, full fain that their voyage might last as long asmight be, for perfect was their happiness to be together thus, andeverything was fair and peaceful. But at last one day the sun was hid bythe clouds which gathered in the sky above them, the wind howledthreateningly around the vessel, increasing in violence as the hoursdragged by, until the danger of the dainty craft was great. 

Ill indeed would it have been with them but for the might of SirTristram's arm, for the vessel was not one built to battle with tempestsand mighty seas. With all his strength and skill he guided her throughthe troubled waters, and Iseult sat and watched him at his task, marvelling at his power. "Ah, " she thought, "had I been a man I wouldhave been just like to him. " And, without fear of danger, so perfectlydid she trust in him, she lay and gazed at him with admiring, wistfuleyes. From time to time he came to her to encourage and reassure her, but although she felt no fear, she did not tell him so, so dearly did shelove to hear his voice, and feel his care for her. 

At last when the danger was over he came to her again, dropping beside heralmost exhausted. "Iseult, my throat is parched and burning, my tonguecleaves to my mouth. Give me some drink, " he pleaded. 

Pleased to do his bidding, glad to be able to help him, Iseult rose andran below. But in the confusion caused by the storm nowhere could shefind aught wherewith to quench his thirst. Dame Bragwaine, half dead withterror of the storm, fatigue, and sickness, lay in a sort of stupor on hercouch, and Iseult, ever kind and thoughtful for others, would not disturbher to help her in her search. Here and there she sought, and high andlow, but nowhere could she find wine or aught else to drink. 

Right vexed and disappointed, she was returning empty-handed to the deckwhere Sir Tristram impatiently awaited her, when, close by the couch ofDame Bragwaine, she spied a beautiful golden flask full of a richsparkling liquid. With a cry of relief she snatched it up, and running upon deck, "Drink, drink, " she cried, unloosing the fastening, "the perfumeis intoxicating. Such wine I never before beheld. "

"Nay, sweet Lady Iseult, " cried Sir Tristram, pressing it back into herhands; "deign first to put your lips to it; do me that honour, or I willnever taste it. " So to her sweet parted lips she raised the flask, anddrank, and then, smiling and glad, she handed it to him. 

Alas, alas, unhappy pair, who might have been so happy! No sooner hadthey tasted of that fatal drink than through their hearts and brainspoured a love so great, so deep, so surpassing, that never a greater couldexist in this world. And in their hearts it dwelt for evermore, neverleaving them through weal or woe. 

At last, alas, after many adventures and many dangers, the happy voyageended, the coast of Cornwall was reached, and Sir Tristram had to lead LaBelle Iseult to the king. And King Mark when he saw her was so amazed ather beauty that he loved her there and then, and with great pomp andrejoicing the marriage took place at once. 

But La Belle Iseult loved none but Sir Tristram, and he her. 

For a while all went well, but only for a little while, for King Mark, told by his knights of the love Queen Iseult and Sir Tristram bore eachother, grew sore jealous of Sir Tristram, and hating him more and more, longed for a chance to do him harm. 

But Tristram gave him no chance, for he was the noblest and trustiestknight of all the court, and though he fought and jousted continually noharm came to him until one unhappy day, when he was lying sleeping in awood, there came along, a man whose brother Sir Tristram had killed; whenthe man saw Sir Tristram lying there asleep he shot an arrow at him, andthe arrow went through Tristram's shoulder. 

Sir Tristram was on his feet in a moment, and killed the man; but his ownhurt was a grievous one, for the arrow had been a poisoned one, so, whatwith his poisoned wound and what with his sorrow that Iseult was so kept aprisoner by King Mark, that he could neither see her nor hear from her, he was very ill for a long time, and like to die. And no one had theskill to cure him but La Belle Iseult, and she might not do so. 

Hearing, though, by some means, of his sad condition she sent to him amessage by Dame Bragwaine's cousin, bidding him to go to Brittany, forKing Howell's daughter, Iseult la Blanche Mains, --or Iseult of the WhiteHands, --could cure him, and no one else. So he took a ship and went, andthis other Iseult healed his wounds, and restored him to perfect health. But she grew to love him, too, for he was a man to whom all women's heartssoftened. 

She was but a child, this White-handed Iseult. She had barely reached hersixteenth year. And though she thought of her unasked love with shame, and though she ever strove to hide it, it shone in her soft brown eyes, and pale face, and filled Sir Tristram's heart with pain for her. So heleft the court and sailed the seas again, hoping that she would forgethim, and learn to love someone else. 

Now, though Sir Tristram could not tear the love of La Belle Iseult fromhis heart, he did not spend his life in moans and sad regrets. He gavehis life to helping the oppressed, and destroying the oppressors; tohelping to right wrongs, and in all ways living a good and noble lifeworthy of the lady who loved him. 

His liking for the sea was great, too, so that he spent many days andnights on board his own good ship, and often he thought of the time whenLa Belle Iseult crossed the sea with him, of the sunny days and starrynights, the peace, the joy, and the happiness of that sweet time. And his heart ached cruelly, and he was full of sadness, for he was a verylonely man now, with no hope of happiness before him. 

Then one day in his loneliness came the thought of that other lonelyheart, --kind little Iseult of the White Hands, and of her love for him. "She suffers as I do, " he said. "Why should two women suffer so for mysake? I cannot love her as she deserves, but I will try to make herhappy. " So, turning the vessel's head, he made once more for Brittany, and there he found that an earl called Grip was making great war upon KingHowell, and was getting the mastery. So Sir Tristram joyfully went to theking's aid, and after mowing down Grip's knights right and left, he killedthe earl himself, and so won the battle. 

Right royally was Sir Tristram received after that, and King Howell in hisjoy would have given him his whole kingdom had he so desired. But SirTristram would accept no reward. What he had done, was done for Iseult'ssake, he said. And a love grew up in Tristram's heart for the gentlemaiden, for who could help loving one kind and beautiful!

So they were married with great rejoicings, and all the kingdom was glad, and so was Sir Tristram, for now, he thought, he could quench that fatallove for Iseult of Cornwall, and could spend the rest of his days in thissunny land, happy with his sweet child-wife. 

Alas! alas! Once more the deadly love-drink did its work! No sooner hadhe placed the ring on his bride's finger, than the love for the otherIseult returned stronger than ever. 

"I have been false to my lady!" he cried to himself remorsefully, "for I swore ever to be her true knight, loyal to her alone. "And such sorrow and repentance filled his heart that his love for hisbride was killed. He concealed his pain so well, though, that littleIseult was happy, never doubting that her husband loved her, --but all thedays and nights that passed were full for Tristram of yearning for hislove, and a great longing to be again in Cornwall. 

At last one day there arrived at the castle a knight from King Arthur'scourt at Camelot; and of him Sir Tristram asked, "Say they aught of me atcourt?"

"Truly, " answered the knight, "they speak of you with shame, for SirLauncelot says you are a false knight to your lady, and his love for youis dead, so that he longs to meet with you that he may joust with you. "

Sore troubled indeed was Sir Tristram at this, for he loved Sir Launcelot, and coveted his respect, and to be deemed traitor to the lady for whom hewould have laid down his life, hurt him most of all. 

From that time his longing to return to Tintagel and his love for La BelleIseult grew daily more and more unconquerable, until at last he could nolonger bear it, and one day set sail from Brittany, leaving his poorlittle lonely wife behind to mourn his absence, and yearn for his return;for as yet she had not found out that there was no love at all in hisheart for her. 

But on a day soon after he had left her there was brought to her the storyof his love for that other Iseult, and of hers for him. Then was theyoung wife filled with shame that ever she had showed her love for him, and jealousy raged in her, turning her love to bitter hate, and her hearthardened so that night and day she longed to be revenged. 

Thus a whole year passed away, and Tristram and Queen Iseult loved eachother as dearly as ever; but King Mark in his jealous anger kept them sowatched that they could never see or speak one to the other, and they hadno peace or joy in life, until at last they could bear the pain no longer, and one day they managed to escape together and to reach the Castle ofJoyous Gard, where the king had no power to reach them, even had he knownwhere they were hid. Of their love and happiness there no tongue cantell, and of the peace and joy of their life, for they loved each otherabove all else, and when they were together nothing had power to painthem. 

But at last, on a sad, sad day, the trusty Gouvernail came to Sir Tristramwith word that a summons had been sent him from King Arthur, to go to theaid of Sir Triamour of Wales, for he was sore beset by a monster namedUrgan, and needed help. 

Sir Tristram could in no wise, of course, neglect this summons, for thatwould have been the direst disgrace to him, and never more in all his lifewould he have been able to show himself anywhere but as a treacherous andloathly knight, and, though it broke his heart to send her from him, LaBelle Iseult loved him too well to have him so disgrace himself. 

So they parted; and a sadder parting never had been in this world, forthey knew with a sure and certain knowledge that never again would they beallowed to meet; and their hearts were full of a love and sorrow almosttoo great to be borne. With tears and kisses they said farewell, vowingeach to be true to the other till death, and after. 

So Sir Tristram rode away into Wales, and Queen Iseult being discovered byKing Mark, was made to return to him, only to be made a prisoner in thegreat grim castle at Tintagel, where all day long she sat sad and lonely, looking out over the sea, and musing sadly on all the bitterness life hadheld for her and for her lover. And her husband, jealous, wrathful, neverslackened his watch over her, night or day. 

A harder lot was Iseult's than her lover's, for he had change and actionto distract his thoughts, and all the excitement of battle; but she hadnothing to do but sit and think on all that might have been, until herheart was near to breaking. 

Meanwhile, Sir Tristram arrived in Wales and met the monster Urgan, ahuge, hideous creature with no notion of fighting, or chivalry, for themoment he beheld Sir Tristram, he rushed upon him, and would have dashedhim to the ground, but that Sir Tristram by good hap saw what was coming, and swerved aside so that the blow fell harmless. And while the giantroared with rage and mortification, and tried to recover his balance, Sir Tristram swiftly drew his sword, and swinging it lightly round hishead, cut the monster's right hand clean off at the wrist with one sharpstroke. 

Maddened by the pain, Urgan fumbled with his left hand until he drew fromhis belt a short steel dagger which had been tempered with sorcery, andspringing on Sir Tristram they closed together, and long and fiercely theyfought until the cliffs trembled with the struggle, and the ground wassodden with blood. 

Great ado had Sir Tristram to avoid the huge bulk of the giant, andgreater and greater grew the strain upon his strength, until a blow fromhim sent the giant rolling over in the gory mud. He was soon on his feetagain, but the moment had given Sir Tristram time to get his breath. Then they closed again, and the blows fell faster and more furiously thanever. The giant's groans of rage and excitement might have been heard formiles around, while the earth flew about them until they could scarce beseen. Between every joint of their corslets the blood ran down instreams, but the sight only infuriated them the more. 

At last, with a fierce roar between bitter laughter and pain, Urgan smoteSir Tristram with such fury that he cracked his shield in half, and thenbefore Sir Tristram could recover himself he smote him again so that hewould have killed him had not the blow by great good chance turned aside. But, turning aside as it did, it gave Sir Tristram the chance he coveted, and rushing in on the giant before he had recovered his foothold, he smotehim with such force and skill that he cleft him clean through; and in hisagony Urgan leapt so high in the air that he fell back over the edge ofthe cliff, and dropped heavily into the sea. 

His task accomplished, Sir Tristram got into his ship again and sailedaway, and as he passed Tintagel, where his unhappy love lay a prisoner inthe castle, his heart felt like to break; and his yearning for her was sogreat, it seemed as though it must bring her to him in spite of herjailers. 

But they were parted, those two, by a fate as strong as death. And shelay immured in her castle home, while he sailed on and on, not heeding norcaring whither he went, for all that he loved dwelt on that bleakiron-bound coast, as far from him as though the whole wide world laybetween them. 

And so at last, not heeding whither he sailed, he came to that sunny landwhere his wife Iseult dwelt, praying always for revenge because she hadbeen scorned by him. On the coast at Brittany he landed, close by his owncastle, but no sooner had he stepped ashore than he was met by a knightwho knelt before him and besought his aid. 

"Noble sir, " cried he, "I am in sore distress. Some robbers, who infestthis land like a scourge, met me as I was riding along with my new-madebride, and I being alone and single-handed, they quickly mastered me, andbinding me, carried my bride away. And how to rescue her I know not. Come to my aid, sir, I beseech you, for you look a noble and trustyknight. "

Sir Tristram, glad to have some distraction from his sorrow, was only tooready to help others who suffered for love's sake. So to Iseult he sent amessage to say he had arrived, and would have been with her but for thequest, which he was bound to accomplish for his honour's sake, and for thesake of his knighthood. Then he departed, and he and the knight rodealong the seashore in search of the robbers. 

All night they slept in the wood by the sea, but as soon as morning brokethere sounded close at hand a great trampling of horses and clanking ofarms, and soon came along the robber band, with the pale-faced, terrifiedlady in their midst, fastened to one of the robbers. 

At this sight the hapless young husband could no longer restrain himself. With a fierce cry he flew at the man to whom his bride was bound, while Sir Tristram, cool and strong, closed with the band and slew threebefore they had tried to defend themselves. And so the unequal battlebegan, and so it raged; but with so much courage and fierceness did thetwo knights fight for their just cause, that soon nearly all the robberband lay lifeless on the ground. 

The young knight, though, was himself by that time wounded by the lastremaining of the band, and ill would it have gone with him, for thereeking sword was raised high to give him the final blow, when SirTristram with a cry of triumph rushed in and clove the man so that henever breathed again. 

Thus was all accomplished, and gladly was Sir Tristram returning on hishomeward way, when one of the robbers who had made his escape and layconcealed, shot at Sir Tristram from his hiding-place, and the arrowpierced Sir Tristram in that same wound whereof he had nearly died beforehe went to Ireland, and La Belle Iseult cured him. And now he felt liketo die again. 

Scarcely could he stagger home through the long miles of that ruggedforest by the sea; his eyes were faint and blinded, his legs shook underhim. Parched, trembling, well-nigh dead, he reached at last his castlegates, but there his strength failed him, and with a terrible cry he fellprostrate on the ground. 

At the sound forth came soldiers and servants, and strong men lifted himin kindly arms and laid him gently on a bed, calling aloud for someone tocome and dress his wound. 

Over by the window of the big hall sat Iseult la Blanche Mains, gazingwith stony, unseeing eyes out over the golden sea, paying no heed to thenoise and bustle going on about her. She had recognized that cry of painat the gate, and knew her husband had returned sore stricken, but never, never once did she turn her head to look at him, nor move to give himcomfort or assistance. And Tristram, ill though he was, felt the changein her manner to him, and grieved in his heart that all was not as itshould have been, for he could not bear to cause pain to any woman. 

As soon as he could speak he called to her, humbly, "Iseult, my wife!"At that she rose and went to him, but sullenly, and stood looking at himas though he were a stranger. 

"Kiss me, " he whispered, and at his bidding she stooped and kissed him, but it was as though an icicle had brushed his cheek, and a black cloud ofmisery settled down upon him, and despairing longing for her who wouldhave been so gentle and kind to him; and towards his wife his hearthardened. 

And she, poor little Iseult, her heart aching sorely with love andjealousy and bitter pain, returned to her seat, and no movement did shemake to heal her lord of his wound, though she alone could do so. But inher heart she had vowed that she would not give him health and life onlythat he might leave her again to go to that other Iseult. So, stern andcold she sat by the window looking out upon the sea, and never spake onegentle word, or tried to win his love. 

And thus three days and nights passed by, and ever the husband and wifedrifted more and more apart. Sir Tristram's wound refused to heal, his strength failed him more and more, but still his wife made no attemptto save him. 

At last there came a day when Sir Tristram could no longer endure hislonely, loveless life, or his pain of mind and body, with never a kindlyword or deed to comfort him. This hard, reproachful woman tortured himhour by hour with her sullen face and hard eyes, her cruel, coldindifference. And his love for that other Iseult, so tender, and true, and loving, burnt like fire in his veins and consumed him. So calling tohim Ganhardine, his wife's brother, who loved him greatly, he bade him, bythe love they bore each other, to take his ship 'The Swan, ' and with allspeed sail in her to England; and there to land at Tintagel, and by fairmeans or foul to convey to Queen Iseult the ring which he there gave him. To tell her, too, how that he, Sir Tristram, was like to die, but couldnot die in peace till he had seen her face once more. 

"Then if it be that she comes, hoist a white sail that I may know my lovestill loves me, and is on her way. If not, then let the sail be black, that I may know, and die. "

And Iseult of the White Hands heard each word he spake, and never a wordshe said; but her rage and jealousy well-nigh consumed her. 

So Sir Ganhardine left upon his errand, and sailed for Tintagel in'The Swan, ' and the journey did not take him long, for the ship flewthrough the waters like a real bird, as though she knew she was bound onher master's errand, and that his life depended on her swiftness. 

Dark it was when Ganhardine arrived, for it was winter-time, when stormsrage full violent on that bleak coast. And at once he landed, and wasmade welcome by King Mark, for a stranger, and a noble one, was everwelcome in that lone country; and the king's heart never misgave him thatthis was a messenger from Sir Tristram. 

Now it happened that Dame Bragwaine knew Sir Ganhardine, for they had beenlovers in days gone by, and more than glad they were to see each otheragain. So with Bragwaine's gladly given help, Ganhardine conveyed SirTristram's ring to Queen Iseult in a cup of wine, so that when the queendrank, there at the bottom of the cup lay Sir Tristram's ring, one thatshe had given him long ago. And there she saw it, and her pale sad facelit up with such a wondrous joy that she had some ado to conceal heremotion from the king and those around her who were ever keeping herwatched. 

Deftly, though, she slipped the ring out of her mouth, and deftly shepresently managed to slip it into her bosom, marvelling much the whilewhence and how it came, and why. And her anxiety and longing nigh droveher beside herself. For until all the inmates of the castle had retiredto rest, naught could she learn of the mystery, or of the stranger who hadcome to the castle. But once within her own apartments, where she was nolonger watched and guarded as of yore, she quickly, at Dame Bragwaine'sbidding, muffled herself to the eyes, and creeping softly down a flight ofsecret stairs, she got out of the castle by a private passage-way andreached the spot where 'The Swan' lay moored, and where Sir Ganhardineawaited her with his message and his sad story. 

When she heard tell of Sir Tristram's sad plight, and how that he was liketo die, but could not die in peace till he had once more beheld her, therewas no need to plead with her to leave all and go to him. Almost beforethe tale was told her she had stepped on board the ship, and without oneglance behind her or one regret she set sail upon the stormy wintry sea togo to her true love, as fast as the faithful 'Swan' could carry her. And in her joy that once again she should be with him, once again sheshould see him, she almost forgot his sore plight, for hard it was for herto believe that Sir Tristram could be like to die. 

Meanwhile death was drawing nearer and nearer to Sir Tristram. His restlessness aggravated his wound, his anxious, tortured mindincreased his fever, so that truly he was like to die at any moment. And all the time, a little way from him sat White-handed Iseult, pale andcold without, the better to bide the burning rage within. 

"Iseult! Iseult!" cried the sick man in his sleep. 

"I am here. What would you?" she answered coldly, and he opened his eyeswith a half-doubting joy in them; but his heart sank like lead, and allthe joy died out of him, for the voice was not the voice of his love, northe face her face, and sore wearily he sighed, and turned his face away. 

"I wronged you past all forgiveness when I married you, " he said, "for myheart had long been given to La Belle Iseult, whose sworn knight I was;but I did love you, I thought I could make you happy. Have you no pity?Can you feel no mercy for me now?" he cried piteously. 

"I feel nothing, " she answered bitterly; "between you, you have killed myheart, and all that was good in me. "

So his heart yearned all the more for the gentler, more tender Iseult. Wearily he moved in his bed and watched for the first gleam of daylight. Slowly the hours dragged by, relieved only by the plash, plash of thewaves against the castle walls, or the sighs of the sick man. 

Then within a while he spoke again. "My wife, " he said, "when morningcomes, look across the sea, and tell me if you see a ship coming, and ifits sails be black or white, that I may the sooner be out of thismiserable uncertainty. "

Obediently she rose, and sat watching until the first ray of dawn, when, skimming over the sea through the morning mist, she saw the dainty 'Swan, 'with her white sails like wings gleaming through the dimness. Over thewide waters she flew, until she drew close to the castle, and the anchorwas cast. Then from out her sprang Ganhardine, and following quicklyafter him came La Belle Iseult. Too impatient to wait for help she spranglightly on the shore, and stood there breathless, eager, glad. 

And so for the first time Iseult la Blanche Mains saw that other Iseult, and as she stood on the shore in her white gown, with her golden hairfalling out under her hood like a mantle over her shoulders, the unhappywife marvelled not that Tristram loved so fair a creature, and her heartsank at sight of her beauty, and fiercer burnt her jealousy. 

"They come, " she said sullenly, turning to her husband. 

"Ah!" he cried, with a deep groan of intolerable suspense. "Of thy mercytell me, and do not torture me!"

"The sails are black, " she answered in a cold, hard voice. 

Then was the terrified woman sore afraid, for with a mighty effort SirTristram sprang from his bed, and took one step across the floor, and in avoice that made even her heart throb and bleed with pity, "Iseult--mylove--my love!" he cried. Then a sudden darkness falling upon him, heflung out his arms as though to catch at something. "Iseult--Iseult--mylove--come--to me!" he gasped in broken tones, and with a thud fell at hiswife's feet, dead. 

"I come, my love, I come!" rang out a sweet voice, full of love andtenderness and joy; and up the castle steps flew La Belle Iseult, andacross the hall to where he lay. And never a look she gave at the pale, unhappy wife. Never a glance at aught beside that form. 

"Tristram, my beloved! I am here. I am with you--with you for all time, "she cried, flinging herself on her knees beside him. And never anotherword did she speak, --for when they raised her, her spirit had followed histo where none could part them more. 

So died those two who had lived and loved so sadly and so truly. And whenhe was dead there was found round Sir Tristram's sword-belt the story ofthe fatal love-draught, and when he read it deep was the grief and bitterthe remorse of King Mark that he had ever parted those two so boundtogether, and driven them to such despair. 

Once more 'The Swan' sailed over the sea to Tintagel, and this time shebore Sir Tristram and his love together, for side by side they were to beburied in a dainty chapel made for them alone, that at last they shouldnever more be parted. 

But in time the sea, jealous for those lovers whose doom she had seen, came up and drew that dainty chapel into her own bosom. And there, wherenone can see them, the lovers sleep in peace for evermore, wrapped roundand guarded by the blue waters of the deep Atlantic sea.