broad day--noble guests--guests of mark! Oh, Sir John! Sir John!
what will ye think of us?"

"Oh, Sir John! Sir John!" groaned the landlord, who had now moved his
slow bulk into the room. "They shall be scourged, Sir John! They
shall be put in the stocks, they shall be brent with hot iron, they--"

"Ha, ha!" interrupted the terrible Graul, "guests of mark! noble
guests, trow ye! Adam Warner, the wizard, and his daughter, whom we
drove last night from their den, as many a time, sisters, and many, we
have driven the rats from charnel and cave."

"Wizard! Adam! Blood of my life!" stammered the landlord, "is his
name Adam after all?"

"My name is Adam Warner," said the old man, with dignity, "no wizard--
a humble scholar, and a poor gentleman, who has injured no one.
Wherefore, women--if women ye are--would ye injure mine and me?"

"Faugh, wizard!" returned Graul, folding her arms. "Didst thou not
send thy spawn, yonder, to spoil our mart with her gittern? Hast thou
not taught her the spells to win love from the noble and young? Ho,
how daintily the young witch robes herself! Ho, laces and satins, and
we shiver with the cold, and parch with the heat--and--doff thy tunic,
minion!"

And Graul's fierce gripe was on the robe, when the landlord interposed
his huge arm, and held her at bay.

"Softly, my sucking dove, softly! Clear the room and be off!"