after the atrocious deed; but he is a magician of such mighty power that no one is able to lay a finger upon him."

"Now I see the difficulty," said Sir Wigolais, "which I confess I did not perceive before."

"Since the death of the king," resumed the damsel, "all Corotin seems to have lain under a heavy curse. Not only does the base Roas live at Castle Gloys, as a creator of evil, but every sort of nuisance in the shape of dragon, giant, dwarf, &c. &c. has infested the land."

"By a sort of attraction, perhaps," suggested Sir Wigolais.

May be so," said the damsel. At all events, every knight who has undertaken the adventure has been destroyed, or imprisoned by something or other, for none have been heard of since. The prize for him who rescues the fair land of Corotin from its present evils is the hand of the Princess Laria, daughter of the murdered monarch, who was fortunately not with her father, but in the impenetrable Castle Raymund, when the great slaughter occurred."

During this discourse, which was frequently interrupted by the sobs of the damsel, they came within sight of Castle Raymund, where the princess still resided.

CHAPTER IV.

SHOWING THE INGENIOUS CONVERSATION SIR WIGOLAIS HELD WITH A REMARKABLY WELL-INFORMED GHOST.

AT the castle, Sir Wigolais was most nobly received by the Princess Laria, who had once been excessively handsome, and with whom, though she was now a little passée, the knight at once fell in love, as in duty

bound.

Next day he heard mass, and was provided by the princess with a sort of bread, the strengthening qualities of which she highly commended. He was to set off alone, and the signal for his departure was to be the appearance of a certain handsome snake, with a crown on its head, which was in the habit of coming every evening, and which had been followed by all the unlucky wights who had already undertaken the adventure.

The snake appeared according to custom, and Sir Wigolais departed, watched by the weeping eyes of the princess, the damsel, and the dwarf, who had made up their minds they would never see him again.

Formidable as the accounts of Corotin had been, the knight kept up his courage as he followed the crowned suake. When day closed, and the sky grew darker and darker, his heart was still firm. But when the moon rose with uncommon brilliancy, he certainly felt rather nervous, for he saw the snake gradually change into a human figure, with the crown still upon the head. This transformation took place in front of one of the most magnificent castles eyes ever beheld.

"You are doubtless surprised," said the human figure, "to perceive this transformation." Sir Wigolais bowed assent. "Know that I am the deceased King of Corotin. Being too easy in my friendship, I protected at my court

"Excuse me," interrupted Sir Wigolais, somewhat impatiently, "but I know all about Roas de Gloys, and the murder."

"Very, good," returned the ghost, somewhat piqued; "if you know all about me I'll tell you something about yourself, which you do not

know. This adventure is reserved for you, as the lawful son of the incomparable Sir Gawain."

"I, the son of Sir Gawain!" exclaimed the delighted Wigolais. "To be sure," he added, "I do not know whose son I am; and, therefore, I may as well be the son of Sir Gawain, as of anybody else."

"Yes," said the ghost, "you are the lawful son of Sir Gawain and the Princess Floria, of the Secluded region, properly so called, because, without the aid of a magic scarf, no one is allowed to enter it. When your respected father took leave of your respected mother (you were unborn at the time), he had the misfortune to leave the scarf behind him, and he was, consequently, unable to get back again. That will account for your remaining strangers to each other."

Sir Wigolais, who knew that his mother was the Princess Floria, was highly delighted at this intelligence, when the good ghost further increased the obligation by showing him where to find a wonderful spear and sword, that would be highly useful to him in his encounters with voracious monsters.

While all these civilities were going on, some three hundred knights, all dressed in coal-black armour, and uttering hideous shrieks as they rode up to the spot, interrupted the friendly couple. Sir Wigolais, nothing daunted, attacked the foremost warrior with his new spear; when, lo! the point of the weapon shone with a bright blue light, and the whole body of knights stood in an attitude of reverence.

"Your courage is proved," said the royal ghost, "and the forms you see are the shades of my murdered knights, who have come hither to test it. Farewell, may Heaven protect the right!"

With this common-place sentiment the ghost resumed the form of a snake, and entered the castle-gates, followed by the other three hundred ghosts, who moved along wailing and howling so dismally that it was enough to ensure one the blue-devils for a twelve-month. When all had entered the gates, flames burst from every part of the earth, and a flock of white doves, emerging from the blazing edifice, soared into the sky. Sir Wigolais concluded that these were the souls of the three hundred and one defunct persons; and we are not in a position to say that his surmise was incorrect.

CHAPTER V.

SHOWING THE HOST OF WONDERS WHICH SIR WIGOLAIS MET IN AN INCREDIBLY SHORT TIME.

DEEPLY edified with all that he had seen, Sir Wigolais pursued his solitary way, and soon came to a spacious plain in which about sixty spears were set up in very neat order. He thought this looked like a combat of some kind, and was highly delighted at the number of weapons, since there was evidently material enough to prevent the fight from coming to an insipid termination.

Presently he saw a big, thick-set individual ride towards him with a threatening countenance. This individual was called the "Dwarf Karios," not because he was smaller than the rest of mankind,-since, ou the contrary, he was considerably larger,-but because he was excessively stout in proportion to his height, which gave him a remarkably squat

appearance.

“Unhappy wretch!" shouted the dwarf. "Fate has played you a sorry trick,-has verily selected you for her foot-ball. Evidently you are brought here for the express purpose of being slain by me."

A combat was the natural result of this insolent address, and the end of the combat was a blow dealt with such vigour on the dwarf's head by Sir Wigolais, that the unlucky monster lost the few wits he had. Fleeing from the spot, and not knowing whither his steed carried him, he rode into the middle of a bituminous marsh, which was one of the nuisances brought into the land by the king's murder, and there he stuck fast. A thick smoke constantly rose from the marsh, which left a pitchy deposit on every object which it chanced to touch. Poor demented Karios was first suffocated by the smoke, and then gradually converted into a black equestrian statue, which adorned the marsh, just as a spouting Triton ornaments a modern pond.

Sir Wigolais scarcely knew whether to laugh or to shudder at the strange fate of his adversary, but his attention was soon occupied by the more important consideration of getting across the marsh. A river flowed right through it, and a bridge placed over the river was the only means of passage. The nearer end of this bridge was ingeniously fitted up with a revolving wheel, composed of sword-blades, which went round and round, and would infallibly slice into pieces, like a cucumber, any one who attempted to make his way across.

Sir Wigolais gazed on the revolving wheel with silent despair. Here was an enemy that no valour could conquer, that no courtesy could persuade, and that was at the same time a very prosaic, inglorious sort of adversary. What was he to do under the circumstances? He could only stand and stare, and, as it turned out, this was the very best course he could have adopted. For while he stood with his eyes and mouth wide open, the wind happened to change, and sent upon the wheel a thick bituminous cloud, which deposited such a thick coating of pitch, that the machinery was completely clogged, and all further revolution was impossible.

As the sword-blades that composed the wheel were placed at considerable intervals, Sir Wigolais had no great difficulty in creeping through them now the wheel was still. But he had no sooner crossed the bridge, than he met with the monster Marinus, which was the ugliest thing he had ever clapped eyes on. This detestable being had four feet, but, nevertheless, walked upright, displaying, with much self-satisfaction, the long claws with which the foremost paws were decorated. The head was like that of a dog, with a pair of eyes resembling burning coals. From the chin to the waist, there was something of a human appearance, and the rest was more like a horse than any thing else, if we except the scales, that guarded the monster like a stout suit of armour.

Sir Wigolais had hardly caught a glance of this monster than it fell upon him with such fury that he did not know where he was. For it kicked him with its hoofs, and grappled him with its claws, and hallooed into his ears from its throat, till he thought he was not encountering one adversary, but was in the midst of a whole legion of devils. At last, he flung the spear, which the ghost had given him, at something which looked like an erratic star in the midst of the confusion, and as this happened to be the monster's eye, Marinus set up a hideous howl, and fled to its cave, leaving the knight time to recover himself. Its absence was not

for long, but it soon returned, with a huge earthen vessel, full of magic fire, which it pitched dexterously on the knight's head, and which, being shattered to a thousand pieces, surrounded him with a heavy shower of flame. The good knight saw nothing from sheer brilliancy; but a blow which he struck at random with his sword, took off the monster's head, and the streams of gore which issued from the wound, at once extinguished the fire, though not until the knight's horse had been miserably consumed, so that the knight himself was reduced to the painful necessity of continuing his journey on foot.

CHAPTER VI.

SIR WIGOLAIS ACHIEVES THE ADVENTURE.

THE adventures of the pitched dwarf, the revolving-wheel, and the monster Marinus, had followed so close upon each other, that the mind of Sir Wigolais was completely puzzled, and he could scarcely tell whether he had been in a dream or not, especially as his organs of respiration were still embarrassed by the smoke from the infernal fire-pot.

He walked on in the moonlight, with more of instinct than consideration, when he was suddenly called to his senses by a dense cloud, that covered over the moon, and occasioned a complete darkness.

"Woe to thee, Roas," said an awful voice from behind the cloud; "thy reign of iniquity is at an end. Woe to thee for the wrong thou hast done to thy liege lord and sovereign. Lo, the avenger is at hand, and all thy wicked arts shall avail thee nought."

The words uttered by the voice were consolatory enough, but the circumstances under which they were spoken were so awful, that Sir Wigolais trembled from head to foot.

As the cloud passed from the moon, Castle Gloys stood before him. He was close to the gate, and, after a few moments of nervous hesitation, pulled a huge gold ring that offered itself to his touch. At once there was a ringing of bells through all the edifice, that threatened to last for ever, and the gates slowly opened, without a visible porter. Sir Wigolais again felt dreadfully uneasy, and had half a mind to turn on his heel, and make the best of his way back. There was a sort of solemn ghastliness in the affair that was ten times more terrible than the palpable enemies he had already encountered. However, he plucked up courage, and in he walked, when the gates, with a thundering noise, closed behind him. This was the worst situation of all. Horrible indistinct voices seemed to mutter at him through the darkness, and at every step he took he fancied he trod upon some soft reptile, which writhed and wriggled under his foot.

A door which flew open and revealed a chamber brilliantly illuminated by torches, held in the hands of a dozen young ladies richly attired, promised a lively change; but Sir Wigolais, on entering the chamber, was greatly horrified on perceiving that the eyelids of the ladies were occupied by mere colourless balls. They all moved their lips very fast, as if they were jeering the knight, but not a word was heard, and this visible, though mute, derision, was more awful than all the rattling abuse in the world. Presently, opening their mouths, as if shouting with

laughter, but still remaining as voiceless as before, they dashed their torches against the walls, and completely extinguished them, leaving Sir Wigolais once more in the dark, to reflect on the pleasing sights he had witnessed.

A bang on the head, similar in force to that which he had endured from the earthen pot, first aroused him from his meditations. He returned the blow, and struck something like armour, when another bang came upon his helmet. This combat in the dark continued for some minutes, when at last Sir Wigolais felt something yield to his sword, and then heard it fall with a heavy clang to the ground. At the same time the room became illuminated with a blue light, and he saw a number of fiends, bearing a headless body through a cavity in the floor, while the sightless damsels ran round and round the apartment, clapping their hands, and moving their mouths, as if shrieking with despair, though still without giving any sound. Presently the whole castle fell in with a crash, and Sir Wigolais found himself in a beautiful garden. The souls of the slain knights fluttered about his head in their dove-like form; the shade of the murdered monarch, who sat near him on a glittering throne, smiled on him benignantly, and the voice, which had spoken from behind the cloud, now said, in milder tones: "The reign of enchantment is over; the hateful Roas has received the punishment due to his crimes, and Wigolais is the bridegroom of Laria, and sovereign of the fair land of Corotin."

A WALK IN THE LANDES OF BORDEAUX.

BY W. FRANCIS AINSWORTH, Esq.

Territory of the "Vins de Grave"-The Landes-Aquitanian Celts-La Teste de Buch-Anecdotes of Jean de Grailly-Descent of Henry IV. from the Captals of Buch-Basin of Arcachon-A Night on the Downs-La Biscarosse-Lagoons and Quicksands-Extinct Port of Mimizan-The Pinadas-Couzeots-St. Julien-A Cagot-St. Leon-Vieux Boucau-Vineyards of the Landes-Cape Breton-The Marensin-Bayonne.

WHEN at Bordeaux, now some time back, on my way to the Pyrenees, I took a fancy to explore the Landes more intimately than was generally done by passing travellers. I was aware of certain general facts-of extensive heaths, dark pine forests, a remote, uncouth population, shepherds on stilts, and vast regions of sands-and this was quite sufficient to excite a wish to see such things a little more closely. Add to which there was something exciting in the idea of a wilderness. It was a change from the formal parallelogramism of cultivated fields and hedge rows, and a still greater relief from the monotony of cities, avenues of trees, and town entrances. Who has travelled much and has not sometimes felt that so many humble shops, so many more ambitious gable ends, and a few towering ricketty steeples, belong to all town entrances?

But in the days I now speak of it was a more difficult matter to get to the Landes than it is at present, when railway carriages convey about