should be thus treated by the knights and nobles of his deboshed
court. And this I call pushing our cause warmly."

"Warmly, sayst thou?" replied the old burgess; "why, so warmly,
that we shall all die of cold, man, before the porter turn a key to
let us into the royal presence. Come, friends, the night is bitter,
we have kept our watch and ward like men, and our jolly smith hath
given a warning to those that would wrong us, which shall be worth
twenty proclamations of the king. Tomorrow is a new day; we will
consult on this matter on this self same spot, and consider what
measures should be taken for discovery and pursuit of the villains.
And therefore let us dismiss before the heart's blood freeze in
our veins."

"Bravo--bravo, neighbour Craigdallie! St. Johnston for ever!"

Oliver Proudfute would still have spoken; for he was one of those
pitiless orators who think that their eloquence can overcome all
inconveniences in time, place, and circumstances. But no one would
listen, and the citizens dispersed to their own houses by the light
of the dawn, which began now to streak the horizon.

They were scarce gone ere the door of the glover's house opened,
and seizing the smith by the hand, the old man pulled him in.

"Where is the prisoner?" demanded the armourer.

"He is gone--escaped--fled--what do I know of him?" said the
glover. "He got out at the back door, and so through the little
garden. Think not of him, but come and see the Valentine whose