around him.  At length his sinking courage was strengthened by a dim, distant light, which as he advanced grew gradually brighter, till all at once he entered a vast and vaulted hall, in the centre of which a fire without fuel, from a broad crevice in the floor blazed with a high and lambent flame, that showed all the carved walls and fretted roof, and the monarch and his queen and court reposing around, in a theatre of thrones and costly couches.  On the floor beyond the fire lay the faithful and deep-toned pack of thirty couple of hounds; and on a table before it the spell-dissolving horn, sword, and garter.  The shepherd reverently, but firmly, grasped the sword, and as he drew it leisurely from its rusty scabbard, the eyes of the monarch and his courtiers began to open, and they rose till they sat upright.  He cut the garter; and as the sword was being slowly sheathed the spell assumed its ancient power, and they all gradually sank to rest; but not before the monarch had lifted up his eyes and hands, and exclaimed—­

  “O woe betide that evil day
  On which this witless wight was born,
  Who drew the sword, the garter cut. 
  But never blew the bugle horn!”

Terror brought on loss of memory, and the shepherd was unable to give any correct account of his adventure, or to find again the entrance to the enchanted hall.

Another legend is connected with Tynemouth.  Just above the short sands was a cave known as Jingling Geordie’s Hole; the “Geordie” is evidently a late interpolation, for earlier mention of the cave gives it as the Jingling Man’s Hole.  No one knows how it came by its name; tradition says that it was the entrance to a subterranean passage leading from the Priory beneath the Tyne to Jarrow.  In this cave it was said that a treasure of a fabulous amount was concealed, and the tale of this hoard fired a boy named Walter to seek it out, when he heard the tale from his mother.  On his attaining to knighthood, he resolved to make the finding of the treasure his particular “quest,” and arming himself, he adventured forth on the Eve of St. John.  Making his way fearlessly down into the cave, undaunted by spectre or dragon, as they attempted to dispute his passage, he arrived at a gloomy gateway, where hung a bugle, fastened by a golden cord.  Boldly he placed the bugle to his lips, and blew three loud blasts.  To his amazement, at the sound the doors rolled back, displaying a vast and brightly-lit hall, whose roof was supported on pillars of jasper and crystal; the glow from lamps of gold shone softly down on gold and gems, which were heaped upon the floor of this magic chamber, and the treasure became the rich reward of the dauntless youth.

  “Gold heaped upon gold, and emeralds green,
  And diamonds and rubies, and sapphires untold,
  Rewarded the courage of Walter the Bold.”

The fortunate youth became a very great personage, indeed, as by means of his great riches he was “lord of a hundred castles” and wide domains.