86 THE WONDER-BOOK OF HORSES 



At the very moment that Griffen emerged 

 from the underground chamber, a clap of thunder 

 rent the air, and lo! the wonderful palace of en- 

 chantment disappeared. Not one sign of the 

 beautiful structure was left to show where it had 

 stood. The barren rock, which formed the sum- 

 mit of the mountain, was as smooth and clean 

 as if it had been swept by the winds and polished 

 by the hail. And there were the knights and fair 

 ladies who had so lately been the guests of At- 

 lantes, standing bewildered and frightened and 

 cold on the very edge of the dizzy cliif. Soon, as 

 if by instinct, they turned about and filed sadly 

 and silently down the narrow bridle-way to the 

 plain. Once safely on the highroad, they betook 

 themselves their several ways, but neither their 

 memory nor their proper senses came back to 

 them until each had reached his own home. 



As for old Atlantes, he skulked down the 

 mountain, and made his way on foot across the 

 country to the high-built tower in the Pyrenees, 

 where he was when we first met him. And there, 

 I have been told, he was content to stay for 

 the rest of his life, busy among his retorts and 

 alembics and herbs and minerals and signs of the 

 zodiac. 



