e peaceful water before us, lying between this spot and
the Scilly Islands yonder, was once a land full of verdure and life--yet
such tradition tells us was the case."

"You mean, I suppose, the fabled land of Lionesse?" said Oliver.

"Yes; you have heard the story of its destruction, I suppose?"

"Not I," said Oliver, "so if you have a mind to tell it me while I
satisfy the cravings of an unusually sharp appetite I'll consider you a
most obliging fellow. Pass me the knuckle of ham--thanks--and the
bread; now go ahead."

"'Tis a romantic story," said Tregarthen.

"All the better," replied Oliver.

"And terrible," added Tregarthen.

"It won't spoil my appetite," said his friend.

"Well, then, I'll tell it--to the best of my ability." The youth then
began the following legend, pausing ever and anon during the narration
to swallow a piece of bread or a mouthful of cold tea, which constituted
the principal elements of their frugal meal.

"You must know that, once upon a time, long, long ago, in those ancient
days before Norman or Dane had invaded this land, while Britain still
belonged to the British, and King Arthur held his court in Tintagel's
halls, there was a goodly land, named Lethowsow or the Lionesse,
extending a distance of thirty miles between this cape and yonder
shadowy islets which seem to float like cirrus clouds on the horizon.
It is said that this land of Lionesse was rich and fertile, supporting
many hundreds of families, with large flocks and herds. There were no
fewer than forty churches upon it, from which it follows that there must
have been a considerable population of well-doing people there.

"About the time of the events which I am going to narrate, King Arthur's
reign was drawing to a close. Treason had thinned the ranks of the once
united and famous knights of the Round Table. It is true that Sir Kaye,
the seneschal, remained true, and Sir Ector de Mans, and Sir Caradoc,
and Sir Tristram, and Sir Lancelot of the Lake, of whom it was said that
`he was the kindest man that ever struck with sword; and he was the
goodliest person that ever rode among the throng of knights; and he was
the meekest man, and the gentlest, that did ever eat in hall among
ladies; and he was the sternest knight to his mortal foe that ever laid
lance in rest.' But many seats at the Round Table that once were filled
by brave warriors had become empty, and among these, that of Prince
Mordred, who, it was rumour