us one. It was a brilliant sunshiny morning.
Freshened and purified by the storm of the preceding night, the air
breathed a balm upon the nerves and senses of the robber. The wooded
hills were glittering in light; the brook was flowing swiftly past the
edge of the verdant slope, glancing like a wreathed snake in the
sunshine--its "quiet song" lost in the rude harmony of the mummers, as
were the thousand twitterings of the rejoicing birds; the rocks bared
their bosoms to the sun, or were buried in deep-cast gloom; the shadows
of the pillars and arches of the old walls of the priory were projected
afar, while the rose-like ramifications of the magnificent marigold
window were traced, as if by a pencil, upon the verdant tablet of the
sod.

The overture was finished. With the appearance of the principal figures
in this strange picture the reader is already familiar. It remains only
to give him some idea of the patrico. Imagine, then, an old
superannuated goat, reared upon its hind legs, and clad in a white
sheet, disposed in folds like those of a simar about its limbs, and you
will have some idea of Balthazar, the patrico. This resemblance to the
animal before mentioned was rendered the more striking by his huge,
hanging, goat-like under lip, his lengthy white beard, and a sort of
cap, covering his head, which was ornamented with a pair of horns, such
as are to be seen in Michael Angelo's tremendous statue of Moses.
Balthazar, besides being the patrico of the tribe, was its principal
professor of divination, and had been the long-tried and faithful
minister of Barbara Lovel, from whose secret instructions he was
supposed to have derived much of his magical skill.

Placing a pair of spectacles upon his "prognosticating nose," and
unrolling a vellum skin, upon which strange characters were written,
Balthazar, turning to Turpin, thus commenced in a solemn voice:

Thou who wouldst our brother be,
Say how we shall enter thee?
Name the name that thou wilt bear
Ere our livery thou wear?

"I see no reason why I should alter my designation," replied the
noviciate; "but as popes change their titles on their creation, there
can be no objection to a scampsman following so excellent an example.
Let me be known as the Night Hawk."

"The Night Hawk--good," returned the hierophant, proceeding to register
the name upon the parchment. "Kneel down," continued he.

After some hesitation, Turpin complied.

"You must re