sane moments she would appear, as now, in an old dimity white dress,
scrupulously washed and ironed, and decorated with innumerable frills;
some natural flowers, generally wild ones, in her hair. Dandelions were
her favourites; she would make them into a wreath, and fasten it on,
letting her entangled hair hang beneath. To-day she had contrived to
pick up some geranium blossoms, scarlet and pink.

"Who has she got hold of there?" exclaimed Mr. Galloway. "He does not
seem to like it."

Arthur burst into laughter when he discovered that it was Harper, the
lay-clerk. This unlucky gentleman, who had been quietly and
inoffensively proceeding up Close Street on his way to service in the
cathedral, was seized upon by Mad Nance by the hands. He was a thin,
weak little man, a very reed in her strong grasp. She shrieked, she
laughed, she danced, she flew with him round and round. He shrieked
also; his hat was off, his wig was gone; and it was half the business
of Mr. Harper's life to make that wig appear as his own hair. He
talked, he raved, he remonstrated; I am very much afraid that he swore.
Mr. Galloway laughed till the tears ran down his cheeks.

The crowd was parted by an authoritative hand, and the same hand,
gentle now, laid its firmness upon the woman and released the prisoner.
It was Hamish Channing who had come to the rescue, suppressing his
mirth as he best could while he effected it.

"I'll have the law of her!" panted Harper, as he picked up his hat and
wig. "If there's justice to be got in Helstonleigh, she shall suffer
for this! It's a town's shame to let her go about, molesting peaceable
wayfarers, and shaking the life out of them!"