short time before the revolution broke out,
the garrison of Pont-Audemer was sent
to search; it came back empty-handed, for
the Goubelins had not been consulted.
The treasure lies there to this day. Also
treasure lies at the bottom of Orval, in the
Fécamp valley, snugly packed away in
certain grottoes; also in the mountain of
Brémont, where a sow, breathing flames,
holds the way against all invaders, and did
once really force a semi-historical person,
an Italian, to retire. Treasure lies at
the Château de la Robardière, on the
southern border of the forest of Dreux,
guarded by l'Homme Blanc, a magnificent
fellow, who appears to the eyes of believers
on the most holy anniversaries, especially on
all the fêtes consecrated to the Blessed
Virgin. The "white man" is a noble creature,
and does no harm to any, save to those
who would sacrilegiously meddle with the
treasure he is appointed to guard. For one
hour in the year, however, the way is
open to the outside world. During the
Christmas midnight-mass, he and all other
treasure-keepers are off duty, and every
one can enter and take. One minute
beyond the last words of the service, and
all doors and concealed ways reclose with
a swiftness which does not allow even a
groan or a sigh to pass.

These are only a very few of the more
fantastic things with which the traveller in
Normandy may amuse himself, if he can
speak the Norman patois; can camp out
in rough untrodden tracks; can win the
silent tongue of the peasant to discourse;
can induce his distrustful mind to believe
no evil is intended by the inquisitive
foreigner who knows so much about his
district. But if the traveller cannot dig
quite so deep as this, he can at least follow
Mr.Blackburn's guidance, and, throwing
off the luxuries and the monotony of railroad
civilisation, can wander among the
less frequented picturesque towns, can take
the banquette of the diligence, and go by
what are now cross roads, from one quiet
nook to another; can breathe fresh air,
study noble architecture, look at pretty
faces, and enjoy life as a rational man out
for his holidays should.  And when he
comes home, he will find that the increase
of health and nervous force he will have
gained—the good temper, good spirits,
happy-mindedness, and clear-headedness
which will have come to him through his
Norman trip—will have amply repaid him
for all the little roughnesses he may have
encountered, and the money he must have
spent; and he will thank Mr.Blackburn's
book for directing his steps, and telling him
what he ought to see.

DISTANT SOUNDS.

BEING on a recent occasion on the cliffs
near Dovercourt, a mile or two south of
Harwich, the booming of the heavy guns
at Shoeburyness suggested to the writer
the inquiry—how far can sounds be heard?
The distance in this case, measured in a
straight line, is about thirty-five miles; but
it was evident, from the character of the
sound, that it must have been audible at
a much greater distance if the air were
calm, and still further with a steady wind
from the south-west.

The facts which are on record relating
to this subject, scattered about in various
publications, show that far wider intervals
of space than the above are traversed by
the sound-bearing pulsations of air, without
quite losing audibility. Of course much
depends on the loudness or volume of the
sound, much on the pitch or acuteness,
and something also on its character,
or what the French call the "timbre;"
and as the kind of explosive noise most
readily produced is that of cannon or large
ordnance, most of the recorded instances
belong to this class. Concerning the
human voice, of course no one expects it to
be heard at a very great distance; but
then the question arises—what is a great
distance? Scientific men know that sound
travels further over smooth water than over
dry land, probably because less interrupted
by friction. Dr.Hutton once tried how
far off he could hear a person read, when
in a boat on the Thames at Chelsea; he
found it to be nearly twice as far as on
land. When Sir Edward Parry was
engaged on his third Expedition to the Arctic
Seas, Lieutenant Foster held a conversation
with a man across Bowen Harbour,
at a distance of a mile and a quarter: the
profound stillness of that desolate region
of course facilitated the experiment. Dr.
Derham, whose Physico-Theology
attracted a good deal of attention a century
and a half ago, stated, that at Gibraltar
the human voice had been heard ten miles
off; but this is one of those statements of
fact which seem to require corroborative
testimony.  As to great clocks, and the
distance to which the sound of their bells
is conveyed, there is a tradition concerning
the clock-bell of St. Paul's Cathedral