The old sailor was pointing to the shore, and speaking in bad French.
"Voila, madame, where the City of Ys stood long before the Bretons came.
It was a foolish ride." "I do not know the story.

Tell me." "There are two or three, but mine is the oldest.

A flood came--sent by the gods, for the woman was impious.

The king must ride with her into the sea and leave her there, himself to come back, and so save the city." The sailor paused to scan the sea--something had struck him.

He shook his head.