Note 1 — Keris.

This town then stood upon the very spot now covered by the Bay of Douarnénèz. It was so large and so beautiful, that when the people of old times were seeking for a title worthy of the capital of France, they could find nothing better than to call it Par-is, that is to say, The like of Is. It was lower than the sea itself, and was defended from all fear of inundation by huge dikes, with doors to open occasionally and let the tide in or out. Grallon’s daughter, the Princess Dahut, carried the silver keys which locked these doors suspended round her neck, from which fact the people generally called her Alc’huèz, or more shortly Ahèz.1 Now she was a great magician, and had adorned the town with numberless works of art far surpassing the skill of any human hand. All the Korigans2 throughout Cornouaille and Vannes had assembled at her call to make the dikes and forge the iron doors; they had plated the palace all over with a metal resembling gold (Korigans being clever workers in metal), and had fenced in the royal gardens with balustrades glittering like polished steel.