towers kept up in their original strength. The dungeons and ground-floors are those parts of the original building to which tradition attaches, and these are as horrible and mysterious as any lover of the romantic can desire. First you are shown the chambers occupied at different periods by two kings of such opposite character; and it is easy to imagine the misgivings of the crafty Louis when the doors closed upon him, and he discovered the style of palace into whose recesses he had imprudently suffered himself to be led.
One can trace the steps of Balue as he retreated from the dangerous interview with his suspicious master, and the tremulous voice of Louis seems to echo through the vaults, as a word saved the devoted churchman from the tender mercies of Petit Andre. Whether the great poet ever visited these walls or not, he could not have described the horror of the moments passed by Louis better. Hideous and fearful is the room, lighted by one narrow window, to which a chain and bars are still attached, which was appropriated to his entertainment; and close by is the recess where Charles the Simple breathed his last. A breach in the flooring at one end discloses a grate, through the thick iron bars of which the waters of the dull black river roll along, making the gloom still more horrible by its plashing sound beneath
