; and to the bare and simple
miracles of the baron is joined that humour without which Thackeray
never tells any story. This is broad enough, no doubt, but is still
humour;--as when the major tells us that he always kept in his own
apartment a small store of gunpowder; "always keeping it under my bed,
with a candle burning for fear of accidents." Or when he describes his
courage; "I was running,--running as the brave stag before the
hounds,--running, as I have done a great number of times in my life,
when there was no help for it but a run." Then he tells us of his
digestion. "Once in Spain I ate the leg of a horse, and was so eager to
swallow this morsel, that I bolted the shoe as well as the hoof, and
never felt the slightest inconvenience from either." He storms a
citadel, and has only a snuff box given him for his reward. "Never
mind," says Major Gahagan; "when they want me to storm a fort again, I
shall know better." By which we perceive that the major remembered his
Horace, and had in his mind the soldier who had lost his purse. But the
major's adventures, excellent as they are, lack the continued interest
which is attached to the two following stories.

Of what nature is _The Legend of the Rhine_, we learn from the
commencement. "It was in the good old days of chivalry, when every
mountain that bathes its shadow in the Rhine had its castle; not
inhabited as now by a few rats and owls, nor covered with moss and
wallflowers and funguses and creeping ivy. No, no; where the ivy now
clusters there grew strong portcullis and bars of steel; where the
wallflowers now quiver in the ramparts there were silken banners
embroidered with wonderful heraldry; men-at-arms marched where now you
shall only see a bank of moss or a hideous black champignon; and in
place of the rats and owlets, I warrant me there were ladies and
knights to revel in the great halls, and to feast and dance, and to make
love there." So that we know well beforehand of what kind will this
story be. It will be pure romance,--burlesqued. "Ho seneschal, fill me a
cup of hot liquor; put sugar in it, good fellow; yea, and a little hot
water,--but very little, for my soul is sad as I think of those days and
knights of old."

A knight is riding alone on his war-horse, with all his armour with
him,--and his luggage. His rank is shown by the name on his portmanteau,
and his former address and present destination by a card which was
attached. It had run, "Count Lu