tiful lake, and deadly and dangerous is it, beyond all that was ever known of ocean or of river. Not a boat dares to venture on its waters ; not a sail ever breaks the monotonous beauty of its deceptive calmness ; for in the midst reigns a whirling and boiling abyss, which would instantly swallow up the imprudent mariner who dared approach it.
If any one is bold enough to cast a stone into the black gulf beyond the clear borders, a hollow sound is heard, the waves rise higher and higher, and presently a tempest bursts forth of hideous violence : rocks, mountains, waters, and skies, are confounded in one frightful commotion ; shrieks, bowlings, and roaring voices, tear the echoes, and the villagers below tremble ; for they know that the Spirit of Lake Pavin has been insulted, and is taking his revenge. The venturous wretch who awakes this burst of wrath never returns to tell the tale, nor is his body ever found, but his end is conjectured with tolerable certainty.
The extinct volcano of Montchalme frowns above Lake Pavin, and opens its yawning mouth, from whence once issued flames and boiling lava, and where now flourishes the juniper and numerous wild flowers of varied colours.
Descending from the mountain, may be traced the course which the overflowing lava took, and the commotion of the earth which bubbled up with internal heat, and left obelisks and mounds whose small craters seem to emulate the large one above them. Aquatic plants float in the water which fills these hollows ; and the golden lily looks up from her throne of large green leaves into the clear air, as if no violence of nature had ever existed where she now blooms.
Below this, dangerous bogs extend in the direction of another lake, that of Montsineire, and in the midst of these is concealed the Creux de Soucy, a dark gulf of unknown depth, connected by some mysterious means with the distant lake of Pavin.
Soon after passing the small town of Vassivifere, on a rising ground close under the mountain which leads to Lac Pavin, might formerly be seen a thatched cottage where lived two orphan sisters. One of them was many yеагз older than the other, and stood instead of a mother to the young and pretty Elphège, who was the admiration of all the country between Besse and les bains du Mont-Dore.
The sisters had a little flax-field, which they cultivated with great care, and, as the situation was tolerably sheltered, it generally produced very abundantly : the produce of this and the cheese made from the milk of their few goats, enabled them to livebetter than many of their neighbours. Marthe, the elder sister, was very plain, and had never had suitors > she was of a quiet, contented disposition, and thought of little else but seeing her pretty Elphege well established. The latter had no want of lovers, and had never any occasion to return alone across the mountain from Besse or Vassivière when she took her goods to market ; nor when she went to pay her devotions at the shrine of the Miraculous Virgin who, in spite of removal by human hands, chose to remain half the year in her chapel at Vassivière, and the other half at the larger town. Biaise, the young shepherd, who fed his flock very near the cottage, was generally her attendant on these occasions, though that honour was disputed by many. He was a handsome, strongly built, and active youth, amiable and obliging, and very much in love, but very timid, particularly in the presence of Elphège, who delighted to torment and agitate him, for she had not been slow to observe the impression her beauty had made on his susceptible heart.
It must be confessed that the fair damsel was fond of admiration, had some ambition, and thought herself superior to most of the neighbours round, both male and female. She could not help looking on Biaise with an ез'е of favour, and her heart inclined very much his way, but she determined not to yield without giving him plenty of trouble.
Elphège went one day to market at Besse, and while she was standing in the market-place was accosted by a young man of very agreeable appearance, who began to bargain with her for her cheeses. He offered her so liberal a price that they were soon agreed, and accompanied his words with so many admiring looks, that she was quite struck and confused. He soon left the spot ; and she inquired of her neighbours who he was, but found he was an entire stranger, who had never been seen before that morning. She asked Biaise, who was near, if he knew him, who replied with rather a contemptuous air, that he did not, nor had any wish to do so. That day, Biaise did not otter to accompany Elphege home, but yielded his post to several who were ready to take advantage of his negligence. The fair coquette did not pass
