“Take your sword,” said the phantom, “and cut off a portion for me.”
“Ah, I would that I were on that desert rock in the middle of the ocean!” cried the unhappy father. He raised his weapon and was about to strike, when the phantom called upon him to hold.
“Harm not your infant, Iouenn,” it cried. “I see clearly that you are a man of honour and that you have not forgotten the service I rendered you; nor do I fail to remember what you did for me, and how it is through you that I am able to dwell in Paradise, which I would not have been permitted to enter had my debts not been paid and my body given burial. Farewell, until we meet above.” And with these words the apparition vanished.
Iouenn and the Princess lived long, respected by all, and when the old King died Iouenn, the man of his word, was made King in his place.
CHAPTER VI: BRETON FOLK-TALES
The stories told here under the title of ‘folk-tales’ are such as do not partake so much of the universal element which enters so largely into Breton romance, but those which have a more national or even local tinge and are yet not legendary. The homely flavour attached to many stories of this kind is very apparent, and it is evident that they have been put together in oral form by unknown ‘makers,’ some of whom had either a natural or artistic aptitude for story-telling. In the first of the following tales it is curious to note how the ancient Breton theme has been put by its peasant narrator into almost a modern dress.