he seemed free from anxiety, as one who had referred himself and
his troubles to the disposal of Heaven. The ceremony of High Mass
was performed with considerable solemnity, a number of noblemen
and ladies of rank being present. Preparations had indeed been made
for the reception of the good old King himself, but some of those
infirmities to which he was subject had prevented Robert III
from attending the service as was his wont. When the congregation
were dismissed, the glover and his beautiful daughter lingered
for some time, for the purpose of making their several shrifts in
the confessionals, where the priests had taken their places for
discharging that part of their duty. Thus it happened that the
night had fallen dark, and the way was solitary, when they returned
along the now deserted streets to their own dwelling.

Most persons had betaken themselves to home and to bed. They who
still lingered in the street were night walkers or revellers, the
idle and swaggering retainers of the haughty nobles, who were much
wont to insult the peaceful passengers, relying on the impunity
which their masters' court favour was too apt to secure them.

It was, perhaps, in apprehension of mischief from some character of
this kind that Conachar, stepping up to the glover, said, "Master,
walk faster--we are dogg'd."

"Dogg'd, sayest thou? By whom and by how many?"

"By one man muffled in his cloak, who follows us like our shadow."

"Then will it never mend my pace along the Couvrefew Street for
the best one man that ever trode it."