When the hour of ten had pealed from the neighbouring steeple Mac-
Guffog came prepared with a small dark lantern. He said softly to
Glossin, 'Slip your shoes off and follow me.' When Glossin was out
of the door, Mac-Guffog, as if in the execution of his ordinary
duty, and speaking to a prisoner within, called aloud, 'Good-night
to you, sir,' and locked the door, clattering the bolts with much
ostentatious noise. He then guided Glossin up a steep and narrow
stair, at the top of which was the door of the condemned ward; he
unbarred and unlocked it, and, giving Glossin the lantern, made a
sign to him to enter, and locked the door behind him with the same
affected accuracy.

In the large dark cell into which he was thus introduced Glossin's
feeble light for some time enabled him to discover nothing. At
length he could dimly distinguish the pallet-bed stretched on the
floor beside the great iron bar which traversed the room, and on
that pallet reposed the figure of a man. Glossin approached him.
'Dirk Hatteraick!'

'Donner and hagel! it is his voice,' said the prisoner, sitting up
and clashing his fetters as he rose; 'then my dream is true!
Begone, and leave me to myself; it will be your best.'

'What! my good friend,' said Glossin, 'will you allow the prospect
of a few weeks' confinement to depress your spirit?'

'Yes,' answered the ruffian, sullenly, 'when I am only to be
released by a halter! Let me alone; go about your business, and
turn the lamp from my face!'