But, heigh-o! she cried, at the Christmas-tide,
That dead she would rather be-O!
Pale and wan she crept out of sight, and wept

'Tis a sorry -

A loud knock that echoed ominously through the mean chamber,
fell in that instant upon the door. And with it came a panting
cry of -

"Open, Cris! Open, for the love of God!"

Sir Crispin's ballad broke off short, whilst the lad paused in
the act of quitting the room, and turned to look to him for
direction.

"Well, my master," quoth Galliard, "for what do you wait?"

"To learn your wishes, sir," was the answer sullenly delivered.

"My wishes! Rat me, there's one without whose wishes brook
less waiting! Open, fool!"

Thus rudely enjoined, the lad lifted the latch and set wide the
door, which opened immediately upon the street. Into the
apartment stumbled a roughly clad man of huge frame. He was
breathing hard, and fear was writ large upon his rugged face.
An instant he paused to close the door after him, then turning
to Galliard, who had risen and who stood eyeing him in
astonishment -