wish his interference before he required it.

"Foolish boy," he said, "hast thou not lived long enough in my
shop to know that a blow will breed a brawl; that a dirk will cut
the skin as fast as a needle pierces leather; that I love peace,
though I never feared war, and care not which side of the causeway
my daughter and I walk upon so we may keep our road in peace and
quietness?"

Conachar excused himself as zealous for his master's honour, yet
was scarce able to pacify the old citizen.

"What have we to do with honour?" said Simon Glover. "If thou wouldst
remain in my service, thou must think of honesty, and leave honour
to the swaggering fools who wear steel at their heels and iron on
their shoulders. If you wish to wear and use such garniture, you
are welcome, but it shall not be in my house or in my company."

Conachar seemed rather to kindle at this rebuke than to submit to
it. But a sign from Catharine, if that slight raising of her little
finger was indeed a sign, had more effect than the angry reproof of
his master; and the youth laid aside the military air which seemed
natural to him, and relapsed into the humble follower of a quiet
burgher.

Meantime the little party were overtaken by a tall young man
wrapped in a cloak, which obscured or muffled a part of his face
--a practice often used by the gallants of the time, when they
did not wish to be known, or were abroad in quest of adventures.
He seemed, in short, one who might say to the world around him: