unless refusal imports utter loss of life or honor;
and even then, it may be (though I would not lay a burden on any man's
conscience), it is better not to resist evil, but to overcome it with
good."

"And I can tell you, Will," said Amyas, "I am not troubled with fear of
ghosts; but when I cut off the Frenchman's head, I said to myself, 'If
that braggart had been slandering me instead of her gracious majesty, I
should expect to see that head lying on my pillow every time I went to
bed at night.'"

"God forbid!" said Will, with a shudder. "But what shall I do? for to
the market tomorrow I will go, if it were choke-full of Coffins, and a
ghost in each coffin of the lot."

"Leave the matter to me," said Amyas. "I have my device, as well as
scholar Frank here; and if there be, as I suppose there must be, a
quarrel in the market to-morrow, see if I do not--"

"Well, you are two good fellows," said Will. "Let us have another
tankard in."

"And drink the health of Mr. Coffin, and all gallant lads of the North,"
said Frank; "and now to my business. I have to take this runaway youth
here home to his mother; and if he will not go quietly, I have orders to
carry him across my saddle."

"I hope your nag has a strong back, then," said Amyas; "but I must go on
and see Sir Richard, Frank. It is all very well to jest as we have been
doing, but my mind is made up."

"Stop," said Cary. "You must stay here tonight; first, for good
fellowship's sake; and next, because I want the advice of our Phoenix
here, our oracle, our paragon. There, Mr. Frank, can you construe that
for me? Speak low, though, gentlemen both; there comes my father; you
had better give me the letter again. Well, father, whence this morning?"

"Eh, company here? Young men, you are always welcome, and such as you.
Would there were more of your sort in these dirty times! How is your
good mother, Frank, eh? Where have I been, Will? Round the house-farm,
to look at the beeves. That sheeted heifer of Prowse's is all wrong;
her coat stares like a hedgepig's. Tell Jewell to go up and bring her in
before night. And then up the forty acres; sprang two coveys, and picked
a leash out of them. The Irish hawk flies as wild as any haggard still,
and will never make a bird. I had to hand her to Tom, and take the
little peregrine. Give me a Clovelly hawk against the world, after
all; and--heigh ho, I am very hungry! Half-past twelve, and dinner not
served? What, Master Amyas,