The water which thus extinguished the sacred fire, was, to their excited imaginations, an image of the holy water, which was at that moment transforming their Prince Bajnok into the Christian István.*

Besides the one supreme God, Isten, the Magyars reverenced, though in less degree, the four ancient elements, three of which, earth, air, and fire, are symbolized by their national tricolour flag of green, white, red. † They still use, to signify God, the word 'Isten,' the derivation of which appears very obscure; but, with Christianity, they adopted the Hebrew 'Satan' as the name of the evil spirit. Much may be learnt concerning their character and habits, by a careful study of their language, many a fact being there recorded, which has escaped the pen of the historian. But passing over this with but slight notice, we may remark that, as our 'Sunday,' though now bearing a higher signification, may remind us of a time when our ancestors adored the sun; so 'vásárnap,' or 'iron-market-day,' the Hungarian name for Sunday, carries us back to the time when the Magyars dwelt near the Altai mountains, and their most important traffic was in iron. That they reckoned time by the sun and moon is evident, 'moon' and 'month' having the same derivation, and 'sun' and 'day' being identical.

The Magyar language is generally considered to be one of the Altai group, to which also belong the Turkish, Finn, Mongol, Mantchu, &c. It has, at all events, nothing in common with the languages of Europe, though very melodious and powerfully expressive. In the previous sketch it has been shown that the Magyars came originally from central Asia, that seeming to be the best supported opinion; but, in conclusion, it may be just to state, that their origin is involved in such a mist of obscurity, that many widely different views are entertained; and one author even asserts that they were originally Jews, and the Jászok, Philistines. There are no records extant of their early history, previous to their appearance in Europe; so that speculation on the subject can hardly be otherwise than unsatisfactory.

(To be continued.)

THE FAIRY OF THE SANDS.

(TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH.-PAUL FEval.)

PART II-CHAPTER XI.

PROWESS OF MAITRE LOYS.

REINE had only time to throw herself back, and lean against the exterior wall of the dungeon; from within she heard a loud and joyous voice saying,

* Jókai Mór. 'Magyar Nemzet története; regényes rajzokban.'

These colours are also symbolical of the three cardinal virtues, Hope, Faith, and Charity.

'I have caught you-always gaping at the moon; have not you light enough to dream with? If my duty did not call me here, at this time, I should be snoring like the loudest bass of our choir.'

'But, good Brother Bruno, I am not sleepy,' said Aubry, who wished him a hundred feet under ground.

'Well! I don't understand it,' cried the lay brother; 'in my time, young men slept better than old ones. But after all, it is sadness that disturbs you, my gentleman; I understand that. St. Michael keep me! I was a soldier before I was a monk; and I tell you that you did well to cast your sword at the feet of that pale rogue who poisoned his brother.'

'Bruno,' interrupted the young man, 'you must not speak thus before me of my lord.'

'Well, well, I know that you are as loyal as steel. Messire Aubry, I love you; and if I were master, you should be free directly, for it is a shame to the Abbey of St. Michael's to be made a prison by this vile Francis.-Well, well, I restrain my tongue, Messire; I said you were a fine man-at-arms, my son, and I would not vex you for the world; and,' he added, in quite a fatherly voice, if you were to say to me sometimes, "Brother Bruno, I should like to drink a bottle of Gascon wine," provided it were neither ember day nor vigil, I should not be displeased with you.'

The excellent Brother Bruno spoke volubly, without stops, and while he spoke his honest face smiled kindly. He was almost an old man; a pale and bald head, which had perhaps been formerly the head of a boon companion. Bruno had done all he could to soften the rigour of his captivity ever since Aubry had been confined in the dungeon of the Abbey. In his rounds he never passed Aubry's cell without coming in for a little chat; and Aubry liked it, because he knew he had a good heart. He allowed Brother Bruno to tell him all the details of the last siege of the Mount; the good monk had made himself a soldier again for the occasion; he would have liked the Mount to be always besieged, but the conquered English had abandoned even their fortress at Tombelaine, after having first ruined it. These happy days were gone.

Aubry usually received the monk's visit with pleasure and cordiality, but now we know that he would not enter into conversation; while Bruno talked, he thought. Bruno perceived it, and began to laugh.

'I am sure I do not disturb you, for I know that you do not receive visits.'

Aubry forced himself to keep a serene countenance.

'But now I think of it,' the monk went on, laughing still more, they say that the Fairy of the Sands, who had disappeared for a hundred years, is come back. The fishermen of the Mount have talked of nothing else for the last fortnight. You were there perched at the window when I came in; perhaps the Fairy, riding upon a moonbeam, had come to see you.'

'Surely Brother Bruno did not suspect how right he was,' Aubry thought.

there are

'Apropôs to this Fairy of the Sands,' he continued, thousands of legends, each more diverting than the other. You, who love old legends so much, should you like to hear one?' So saying, Bruno sat down upon the straw that made Aubry's bed, and placed his lamp upon the ground. The idea of telling a story rejoiced his heart. Aubry devoted him to the devil.

'At the time of the First Crusade,' began Bruno, 'the Lord of Chateauneuf, who was Jean de Rieux, sold all, even to his wife's gold chain, to equip a hundred lances. Do you listen, Messire Aubry?'

'Not much, good Father Bruno.'

"The legend I am telling you is called the Grotto of Sapphires, and shows all the treasures that are hid at the bottom of the sea.'

'I shall not go after them, Brother Bruno.'

'Jean de Rieux, having then equipped his hundred lances, went to Dinan to suspend a medallion, that had been blessed, to the altar of our Lady. Then he went off, leaving his wife, the beautiful Alionor, to the care of his seneschal.' Aubry yawned. 'I never saw a Christian yawn while listening to this legend, Messire Aubry,' said the monk, somewhat offended, and that reminds me of another adventure.'

'Oh! good Brother Bruno, if you knew how sleepy I am!' 'Just now you pretended-'

'Certainly, but since-'

'Then it is I who make you sleepy, Messire?' said the monk, rising. 'My excellent brother, you cannot believe that?' Aubry offered his hand.

The monk took it without any anger, and shook it heartily. 'Come,' said he, to punish you, you shall never hear the legend of the Sapphire Grotto at the bottom of the sea. Good-night, Messire Aubry; do not forget your prayers, and have pleasant dreams.'

The door was hardly closed before Aubry suspended himself again to the sill of the loophole. 'Reine! Reine!' said he, 'bless you for having thought of bringing me a file; we are saved!'

'May you not be mistaken, Aubry.'

'To-morrow night this bar will be cut through.'

'But could you pass through that narrow opening?'

'My adored Reine, I will pass if I leave the skin of my shoulders.' 'And shall we have one enemy the fewer?'

'You will have one defender the more, Reine!' he cried, 'Listen; while the good monk was there, I thought and remembered, what cannot a brave man do, even against a host? With Loys to fight the Rieux bloodhounds, and me to fight the men-at-arms of that miscreant Méloir, by St. Brieuc, Reine, I should go to battle with a joyful mind.'

'I do not know,' the girl would have said, but Aubry continued, with increasing warmth

Listen, listen, Reine; you do not know Maitre Loys; he is a noble fellow in his way. Once-it was two years ago-my noble father, who was near death, had a fancy to eat a loin of buck venison; the deer are getting scarce in our Brittany, but there are some left in the forest of Jugon. I said to my father, 'Messire, I am going to kill a buck.' He smiled, and gave me his feeble hand; when a man is dying, he has longings like a child or a woman. I took Maitre Loys, and we went towards Lamballe; we walked on all day. On the opposite side of the forest of Jugon is the house of the ancient lords of Kermal, now inhabited by the Jew, Isaac Holles, silversmith to the late Duke. Isaac had six sons, who considered themselves masters of the forest, all robust and tall men, dark, mouth depressed, nose like an eagle's beak, like the eastern nations. If anyone, gentle or simple, hunted in this forest, the sons of Isaac Holles came and killed him, so no one did hunt there, for that was well known. They had a pack trained to rush upon poachers and their dogs. I arrived at night on the borders of the forest; Maitre Loys found scent at the first step, but it was too late to hunt. I knew their tracks, and I walked a league to get a good station. My arms were my knife and my spear—a good spear, Reine, strong as a lance, and sharp as a needle. I tied Maitre Loys to a chestnut tree, and I told him to lie down and not to move; the buck came trotting in the copse; Maitre Loys pretended to be dead. When the buck passed, I planted my spear under his shoulder; he fell on his knees, and I despatched him with my knife. Maitre Loys made a long and joyful howl, and then, as if this cry had called up an army of demons, the forest was lighted up suddenly; torches shone through the trees, the trumpet sounded; I saw men on horseback galloping, exciting the hounds to their fullest speed. I said to myself, 'Here come the Jew's six sons with their dogs, to kill me.' With a back-stroke I cut the leather strap which held Loys, and I took my spear in my hand. Loys did not spring; he stood before me, his legs stretched, his head raised. The Jews were already crying, 'At him!' There was a large oak tree at the right of the path, and I placed my back against it, that I might not be massacred from behind. At that moment Isaac's six sons, their dogs and their servants, came upon me like thunder. I still see their long faces, made copper-coloured by the red light of the torches. I cannot tell you exactly what happened, Reine, for I scarcely know myself; there was a whirlwind around me. I had wounds in all parts of my body; my forehead was covered with sweat and blood. I only remember encouraging Maitre Loys from time to time, I also remember that I saw him always before me, mute amidst the pack, and working nobly. My spear rose and fell; I began not to feel my wounds, which is a sign that one is going to faint or die.'

Aubry stopped to take breath. Reine listened breathless. She was in the forest, at the foot of the great oak; the torches dazzled her, the noise stunned her. 'Brave Maitre Loys, defend your master.' Aubry went on

'I wished so much to take the venison to my father. I felt that I was going to fall; I said to myself, "Come, Aubry, one last stroke!" and I quitted my post as a besieged garrison makes a sally; I brandished my lance, I struck as well as I could. It seemed to me that the torches went out, and there was no one before me; I thought it was the mist of death before my eyes; I let myself sink. I stayed there a very long time; when I awoke, the rising sun was gilding the higher branches of the trees. Maitre Loys, with bloody coat, was licking my wounds. Around me, lying on the grass, were six dead bodies, the six sons of Isaac Holles; for his share, Maitre Loys had strangled two Jews and half a dozen dogs; Maitre Loys is a good beast! I cut up the buck; I could not carry it all home, so I took the loin, and came home, somewhat maltreated, but well pleased. My father, whose eyes were failing, never knew that I was wounded; he made his last repast upon the venison, smiling, and finding it very good.'

Thus concluded Aubry's history; as Reine still listened he continued, 'Could I but see myself in the midst of Méloir's men-at-arms, with a weapon in my hand, and Maitre Loys by my side, I should ask nothing else of Heaven.'

'You are brave, Aubry,' said Reine softly; 'yes, you are right; if you were free, we could save my father.'

'Well, then, my Reine,' he cried, beginning to file the bar, 'let us work at my liberation.'

The steel ground upon the iron; Aubry was in a very uneasy position, but he worked with all his heart.

'And now, Aubry,' said Reine presently, 'Heaven be with you; going.'

'Already?'

'My father has been expecting me these two days.'

'But the tide is up.'

I am

'It is going down; and if any water remains at dawn between the Mount and Tombelaine, I must swim.'

'Swim!' cried Aubry; 'do not, Reine; the current is strong.'

'If I wait for daylight, I shall be seen, and my father's retreat discovered.'

Aubry could make no objection, but all his gaiety was gone. The moon now appeared round an angle of the fortification; a ray came to Reine's shoulder; then the light rose slowly, and playing among the folds of her black veil, and fair hair weighed down with the dews of night, reached her cheek at last, and sparkled in her tender soft blue eyes. Aubry was in ecstasy.

'Oh! Reine,' said he, 'I have not seen you like this for two long weeks. Night has always been between us, and I never saw you so beautiful; what have I done to deserve your love? when I think of that I tremble, and my heart is sad.'

There was an angelic smile on the young maiden's face.