if so they would try to get possession of
the original register. Could there be any
motive for preserving them?"

Mr. Newill lost himself in thought for
a few minutes, after which he looked first
at George, whose face was intensely anxious,
and then at me. I was regarding him
dauntlessly, and he smiled when his eye
met mine.

"I must speak to you alone," he said,
leading the way into an inner room.

THE BASQUE PEOPLE.

IN two successive articles of the
" Bulletin Trimestriel de la Société Ramond,"
M. EUGENE CORDIER has given a description
of some of the laws and customs
prevailing among the Basques, that
singular race dwelling upon the slopes of the
Western Pyrenees, whose language and
whose origin are alike a puzzle to
antiquarians, and who, mustering in all about
eight hundred and forty thousand souls,
have contrived to maintain what may fairly
be called their nationality distinct from
both France and Spain. The governments
of these countries have striven hard to
extirpate the old Basque tongue, but though
it is at length gradually yielding, yet it has
shown a strange and most obstinate vitality.
Besides this, the Basques possess a system
of legislation on such social subjects as the
succession to property, parental and
conjugal rights, and the rights and powers of
women, of such completeness and speciality,
as is rarely to be found in Europe. Some
of these laws, and of the national customs,
may be interesting to our readers. For
the latter we are chiefly indebted to
Monsieur Michel's interesting work, Le Pays
Basque.

The Basques are, physically, a fine race,
though goître and crétinisme are by no
means unknown among them. As a rule,
however, the men are tall, brave, and
active, and possess considerable, though
uncultivated intelligence. Michel tells how
Gonzalo Fernandez de Cordova was
provoked to exclaim that " he had rather have
lions to guard, than Biscayens to govern,"
and points out how the energy and perfect
health of the Basque peasant, make him,
even after a hard day's work, scorn repose
in the chimney nook, and seek, instead,
recreation in dances, or athletic sports.
Bull-fights are among their favourite diversions,
but they are of the less cruel kind;
that is, the bull is not killed, but replaced,
when tired, by a fresh one. Sometimes, also,
a bull, or even a cow is restrained by a rope,
and all comers are invited to try their skill
and agility, with just sufficient risk to render
the sport exciting. Sometimes a jar, with
a mouth much smaller than the interior,
is imbedded in the centre of the arena; a
child placed in it, strikes the bull as he
approaches, and then ducks into his jar,
vanishing utterly into the ground, much to
the animal's amazement as he makes his
rush. The Jeu de Paume, a kind of tennis,
has long been a passion with the Basques.
The name of a first-rate player flies from
village to village, until it becomes a household
word in the most remote mountain
cottage. At the time of the first French
revolution, one Perkaïn, who had taken
refuge in Spain, heard that his rival,
Curutchet, was challenging players in France.
He could not resist the temptation. He
crossed the frontier, played, won, and
escaped safe back to Spain, applauded and
assisted by thousands. To be either player
or spectator of the game, a Basque will
willingly walk during the whole of the
preceding and following nights; soldiers
desert their regiments to be present; some
have unexpectedly appeared on the
appointed day even from the banks of the
Danube. Under the Empire, fourteen
soldiers of one regiment left the army without
permission, journeyed to the distant
St. Etienne de Baïgorry, played their
game, and were back on the banks of the
Rhine in the nick of time for the battle of
Austerlitz. Wagers are freely made upon
the game, but etiquette prescribes that no
man shall back a player who does not
speak his dialect. It is not thought
dishonourable in a player to play below his
strength at first in order to tempt the ring
to put their money on his adversaries. It
is fraudulent, however, if he intend
ultimately to lose.

Dancing is another delight. Here is an
amusing description from Monsieur Michel,
of a genuine Basque evening. You, the
reader, are supposed to be a stranger, and
to find yourself near a mountain hamlet
on a cold winter night. You resolve to ask
for hospitality at a certain house; being
sure, from its ruddy glow, that a merry
company are assembled within.

The door being opened, you find yourself
in a spacious kitchen. An enormous log
blazes on the hearth, around which a
cheerful party is assembled. On the right
sits an old man in an ancient wooden
armchair, consecrated by the use of generations