I.— DE PARIS A SPA.— FRANCHIMONT

sous le manteau des cheminées, les effets du feu surl’âtre noirci, et l’œil peut suivre jusqu’au sommet les traces de la fumée. »

Walter Scott a recueilli la légende suivante sur le château de Franchimont :

The towers of Franchimont,

Which, like an eagle's nest in air Hang o'er the stieam and hamlet fair.

Deep in their waults, ihe peasanU aay,

A mighty treeisure buried lay,

Amass'd through rapine and through wrona By the last lord of Franchimont.

The iron chest is bolted hard,

A hunstman lita, its constant guard;

Around his neck hiS hom is hung ,

His hanger in his belt is slung;

Before his feet bis bloodhounds lie ;

An’l were not for his gloomy eye,

Whose withering glance no art can brook,

As true a huntsman doth he look As bugle ere in brake did hound.

Or ever halloo'd to s bound.

To Chase the fiend and win the prize In that same dungeon, ever tries An aged necromantic priest.

It is a hundred years at least Since’ twixt them first the strife begiin.

And neither yei bas lost or won. *

And oft the conjuror’s words will raake The stubborn démon groan and quake,

And oft the bands of iron break,

Or bursts one lock that still amain Fast as'tis open'd shuts again.

Thus magic strife witbin the tomb May last until the day of doom,

Unless the adept shall learn to tell The very Word that clench’d the spell,

When Franchimont lock'd the treasure cell.

A hundred years are pass’d and gone.

And scarce tbree letters bas he won.

« Les tours de Franchimont, qui, semblables à un nid d’aigle perché dans les airs, dominent le torrent et le hameau. Au dire des paysans, un immense trésor, amassé par le dernier seigneur de Franchimont, le fruit de ses rapines et de ses brigandages, est enseveli sous ses voûtes