untenances of such amazement were turned
towards him, that Small, who had a keen sense of the ludicrous, could
scarcely forbear smiling as he proceeded; and if we could suspect so
grave a personage of waggery, we should almost think that, by way of
retaliation, he had palmed some abstruse, monkish epicedium upon his
astounded auditors.

The oration concluded, biscuits and confectionery were, according to old
observance, handed to such of the tenantry as chose to partake of them.
The serving of the grace-cup, which ought to have formed part of the
duties of Zachariah, had he been capable of office, fell to the share
of the sexton. The bowl was kissed, first by Ranulph, with lips that
trembled with emotion, and afterward by his surrounding friends; but no
drop was tasted--a circumstance which did not escape Peter's
observation. Proceeding to the tenantry, the first in order happened to
be Farmer Toft. Peter presented the cup, and as Toft was about to drain
a deep draught of the wine, Peter whispered in his ear, "Take my advice
for once, Friend Toft, and don't let a bubble of the liquid pass your
lips. For every drop of the wine you drain, Sir Piers will have one sin
the less, and you a load the heavier on your conscience. Didst never
hear of sin-swallowing? For what else was this custom adopted? Seest
thou not the cup's brim hath not yet been moistened? Well, as you
will--ha, ha!" And the sexton passed onwards.

His work being nearly completed, he looked around for Jack Palmer, whom
he had remarked during the oration, but could nowhere discover him.
Peter was about to place the flagon, now almost drained of its contents,
upon its former resting-place, when Small took it from his hands.

"_In poculi fundo residuum non relinque_, admonisheth Pythagoras," said
he, returning the empty cup to the sexton.

"My task here is ended," muttered Peter, "but not elsewhere. Foul
weather or fine, thunder or rain, I must to the church."

Bequeathing his final instructions to certain of the household who were
to form part of the procession, in case it set out, he opened the hall
door, and, the pelting shower dashing heavily in his face, took his way
up the avenue, screaming, as he strode along, the following congenial
rhymes:

EPHIALTES

I ride alone--I ride by night
Through the moonless air on a courser white!
Over the dreaming earth I fly,
Here and there--at my fantasy!
My frame is withered, my visage o