following his frightful guide, he for three days travelled in darkness, sometimes hearing the booming of a distant ocean, sometimes walking through rivers of blood, which crossed their subterranean path.  At length they emerged into daylight, in a most beautiful orchard.  Thomas, almost fainting for want of food, stretches out his hand towards the goodly fruit which hangs around him, but is forbidden by his conductress, who informs him these are the fatal apples which were the cause of the fall of man.  He perceives also that his guide had no sooner entered this mysterious ground, and breathed its magic air, than she was revived in beauty, equipage, and splendour, as fair, or fairer, than he had first seen her on the mountain.  She then commands him to lay his head upon her knee, and proceeds to explain to him the character of the country.  “Yonder right-hand path,” she says, “conveys the spirits of the blessed to Paradise; yon downward and well-worn way leads sinful souls to the place of everlasting punishment; the third road, by yonder dark brake, conducts to the milder place of pain from which prayer and mass may release offenders.  But see you yet a fourth road, sweeping along the plain to yonder splendid castle?  Yonder is the road to Elfland, to which we are now bound.  The lord of the castle is king of the country, and I am his queen.  But, Thomas, I would rather be drawn with wild horses, than he should know what hath passed between you and me.  Therefore, when we enter yonder castle, observe strict silence, and answer no question that is asked at you, and I will account for your silence by saying I took your speech when I brought you from middle earth.”

Having thus instructed her lover, they journeyed on to the castle, and entering by the kitchen, found themselves in the midst of such a festive scene as might become the mansion of a great feudal lord or prince.  Thirty carcases of deer were lying on the massive kitchen board, under the hands of numerous cooks, who toiled to cut them up and dress them, while the gigantic greyhounds which had taken the spoil lay lapping the blood, and enjoying the sight of the slain game.  They came next to the royal hall, where the king received his loving consort without censure or suspicion.  Knights and ladies, dancing by threes (reels perhaps), occupied the floor of the hall, and Thomas, the fatigues of his journey from the Eildon hills forgotten, went forward and joined in the revelry.  After a period, however, which seemed to him a very short one, the queen spoke with him apart, and bade him prepare to return to his own country.  “Now,” said the queen, “how long think you that you have been here?” “Certes, fair lady,” answered Thomas, “not above these seven days.”  “You are deceived,” answered the queen, “you have been seven years in this castle; and it is full time you were gone.  Know, Thomas, that the fiend of hell will come to this castle to-morrow to demand his tribute, and so handsome a man as you