It is said that one of the towers descends
as deep into the earth as it rises above it, and
terrible are the approaches to these frightful
spots. A tradition exists that one of the later
governors of the castle, being curious to know
the extent of these gloomy places, set forth
one day on an exploring expedition, and found
several passages closed by iron doors: these
he had forced open, and found himself in new
passages, cut in the depth of the rock on
which the castle is built. Another door
arrested his progress, which was also broken
open, and he entered a long alley, still in the
rock, which he followed for a considerable
time, till at length it led him to a subterraneous
chamber, where, seated on a huge block of
stone, with his head leaning on his two hands,
sat a very tall man. Monsieur de Pontbrillant,
the enterprising governor, was amazed
at this vision; but, scarcely had he looked
upon it, when the current of air striking the
figure, it fell away into dust at his feet. Beside
the unfortunate prisoner stood a small wooden
coffer, in which still remained several articles
of linen, very fine, and carefully folded. The
skull and bones of this corpse were long shown
at the castle, and were looked upon with awe
by those to whom this story was related: but
who the prisoner was was never known.
In more than one of the old castles of
France are still to be traced these horrid
dungeons, where captives of all ranks were
confined, immediately beneath the pleasure
chambers of the lords and ladies.

The governor of Loches was always a very
great man, which perhaps accounted for the
fact of our having to wait a long time for the
keys of the great tower, which a messenger
had gone in search of at the present governor's
lodgings. While we waited in an outer
court, we were civilly invited by the portress
to walk into her parlour, and there we sat
some time talking to her, and hearing the
gossip of the place. Beside the large fireplace,
guarded from the draught of the open
door by a huge wooden screen, sat the
grandmother of the establishment—generally a
cherished member of the humblest family
circle in France—who, old as she seemed, got
up and made us a reverence, resuming her
cosy seat by the fire, which was directly piled
with enormous pine cones and sent up a
resinous flame, the perfume of which spread
through the room. Monsieur Faye was
placed near her, and as she went on with her
ceaseless knitting, she was soon busy in
cheerful converse with her new acquaintance,
while I was listening to a history of a
lately escaped convict from this apparently
secure retreat: the castle being the country
prison.

"You see," said the portress, " you would
not have been obliged to wait so long for the
keys but for this: we used, till three days
ago, to keep them here, but since that event
they are sent up to the governor's house, and
my husband, the guide, who shows you over
the dungeons, is obliged to go and get them—
but he will soon be back."

"Do they keep prisoners in dungeons now-
a-days ? " I asked.

I was told that the escaped culprit, who
had robbed a hen-roost, hail been put in a
room above the dungeons—of which there are
three stories beneath the ground level—and
had contrived to hook up a plank, by which
means he descended, with intent to rise the
easier, having swung himself down till he .
could jump across a certain black abyss,
which we afterwards shuddered to see, and
gain a broken staircase where a door led to a
corridor conducting to the outer court. With
an iron nail he had displaced a huge stone in
the steps, had crept through that, displaced a
second in the same way, and thus arrived at
the passage. Here he hid himself in a dark
corner on the chance of the jailor-guide
coming that way with visitors before long.
As it happened, that event occurred, and the
jailor was just preparing to light the candle
which serves to illumine the gloom, having
left the outer door open till the process was
accomplished, when the ready adventurer
leapt from his hiding-place, overturned the
guide, and amidst the screams and cries of
the affrighted visitors rushed out, with them,
pell mell into the outer world. As his blouse
was the same costume as that worn by many
of the affrighted strangers— for all ranks make
the dungeons a lion—he passed unnoticed in
the crowd, and excited no surprise as he " ran
violently down the steep hill" with the rest
and got fairly off. I could not regret that so
ingenious and fearless a personage had baffled
the vigilance of the guardians of Loches, but
I felt a little nervous at the chance of a similar
adventure occurring as we began our exploring
expedition in the same quarter. I was assured,
however, that there was no chance of such a
thing, all the prisoners now detained, to the
number of four, being at that moment smoking
their pipes in a pleasant sunny little court
which we had to cross before we reached
the low door which gave entrance to the
dungeons.

There was nothing formidable in the aspect
of these worthies, whose crimes were not of a
deeper die than that of having got drunk and
committed damage to the citizens in their
cups; and we passed amongst them, returning
the salutes they made with their nightcaps,
quite without alarm.

In the great court before this enormous
and sinister-looking tower, one of the most
splendid and the most worthless of the ancient
governors of Loches paused before he entered,
attended by three hundred gentlemen of high
family, all probably " as wicked as himself,"
and all bent on turning the good fortune of
their friend and patron to the best account.
This governor was the famous favourite of
the infamous Henry the Third of France, the
gorgeous Duke d'Epernon, and during the
time he passed in these walls, the gold of the