ck a blow on the
door that he recollected he ought to have bethought himself beforehand
in what manner he was to present himself before Henry, and obtain his
forgiveness for his rash communications to Simon Glover. No one answered
to his first knock, and, perhaps, as these reflections arose in the
momentary pause of recollection which circumstances permitted, the
perplexed bonnet maker might have flinched from his purpose, and made
his retreat to his own premises, without venturing upon the interview
which he had purposed. But a distant strain of minstrelsy revived his
apprehensions of falling once more into the hands of the gay maskers
from whom he had escaped, and he renewed his summons on the door of the
smith's dwelling with a hurried, though faltering, hand. He was then
appalled by the deep, yet not unmusical, voice of Henry Gow, who
answered from within: "Who calls at this hour, and what is it that you
want?"

"It is I--Oliver Proudfute," replied the bonnet maker; "I have a merry
jest to tell you, gossip Henry."

"Carry thy foolery to some other market. I am in no jesting humour,"
said Henry. "Go hence; I will see no one tonight."

"But, gossip--good gossip," answered the martialist with out, "I am
beset with villains, and beg the shelter of your roof!"

"Fool that thou art!" replied Henry; "no dunghill cock, the most
recreant that has fought this Fastern's Eve, would ruffle his feathers
at such a craven as thou!"

At this moment another strain of minstrelsy, and, as the bonnet maker
conceited, one which approached much nearer, goaded his apprehensions
to the uttermost; and in a voice the tones of which expressed the
undisguised extremity of instant fear he exclaimed:

"For the sake of our old gossipred, and for the love of Our Blessed
Lady, admit me, Henry, if you would not have me found a bloody corpse at
thy door, slain by the bloody minded Douglasses!"

"That would be a shame to me," thought the good natured smith, "and
sooth to say, his peril may be real. There are roving hawks that will
strike at a sparrow as soon as a heron."

With these reflections, half muttered, half spoken, Henry undid his well
fastened door, proposing to reconnoitre the reality of the danger before
he permitted his unwelcome guest to enter the house. But as he looked
abroad to ascertain how matters stood, Oliver bolted in like a scared
deer into a thicket, and harboured himself by the smith's kitchen fire
before Henry could l