en letters, the following
words:--

"By magic spells remain most firmly bound,
The world's strange wonder unknown by anyone,
Till that a knight within the north be found
To pull the sword from out this rock of stone:
Then end my charms, my magic arts and all,
By whose strong hand sage Ormandine must fall."

"A northern knight!--that must mean me," exclaimed Saint David.
"Undoubtedly, I am destined to pull the magic sword from out of that
rock. See how I'll do it!" On this, dismounting from his steed, he
grasped hold of the hilt, and began to pull and pull away right
manfully; but in vain he pulled, and tugged, and hauled; not a hundredth
part of an inch had he drawn forth of the sword, but, still persevering,
he would not let go. At length, the faithful Owen entreated that he
might be allowed to come and help. Then Knight and Squire tugged and
tugged away, but still the sword would not move. Next, putting both
their hands to the huge hilt, and their feet against the rock, they
bethought them most surely that they would move it. Scarcely, however,
had they in that guise begun to pull, than there arose around them
fearful shouts of mocking laughter, and, the gates of the castle opening
wide, twelve hideous dwarfs, with faces black as coal, and bodies
horribly deformed, issued forth, and bearing in their hands some iron
chains, which clanged as they moved, approached, with grinning mouths
and threatening gestures, the Knight and his Squire.

Saint David and the faithful Owen would fain have let go the richly
gemmed hilt of the magic sword, but when they strove to do so they found
their hands clinched firmly to it. Now they struggled as much to free
their hands as before they had to draw out the sword. But in vain was
all their tugging and struggling.

The dwarfs stood round awhile to enjoy their dismay, and then throwing
the iron chains around them, they bound them in fetters which no earthly
power could undo, and carried them away, helpless as infants in their
nurses' arms, to the magic castle. There, in the centre of an iron hall
of vast dimensions and sombre hue--the only light emitted from a lurid
torch burning at the further end--on iron beds, of which a countless
number appeared ranged around, lay writhing the victims which the fell
Magician's cruelty had left bound. There, for many years, till the full
term of seven was accomplished, we, too, will leave them, daily visited
by the Enchante