hamber which the hostess and her
daughter reserved for their own convenience; and this particular having
been intimated to the squire while he was at supper, he had resigned his
bed quietly, and been conducted hither in the absence of the company.
Tom, recollecting himself as well as he could, professed himself of
Crabshaw's opinion, that the house was haunted, declaring that he could
not well account for his being there in the dark; and leaving those that
were assembled to discuss this knotty point, retired downstairs in hope
of meeting with his charmer, whom accordingly he found in the kitchen
just risen, and wrapped in a loose dishabille.

The noise of Crabshaw's cries had awakened and aroused his master, who,
rising suddenly in the dark, snatched up his sword that lay by his
bedside, and hastened to the scene of tumult, where all their mouths were
opened at once, to explain the cause of the disturbance, and make an
apology for breaking his honour's rest. He said nothing, but taking the
candle in his hand, beckoned his squire to follow him into his apartment,
resolving to arm and take horse immediately. Crabshaw understood his
meaning; and while he shuffled on his clothes, yawning hideously all the
while, wished the lawyer at the devil for having visited him so
unseasonably; and even cursed himself for the noise he had made, in
consequence of which he foresaw he should now be obliged to forfeit his
night's rest, and travel in the dark, exposed to the inclemencies of the
weather. "Pox rot thee, Tom Clarke, for a wicked lawyer!" said he to
himself; "hadst thou been hanged at Bartlemy-tide, I should this night
have slept in peace, that I should--an I would there was a blister on
this plaguy tongue of mine for making such a hollo-ballo, that I do--five
gallons of cold water has my poor belly been drenched with since night
fell, so as my reins and my liver are all one as if they were turned into
ice, and my whole harslet shakes and shivers like a vial of quicksilver.
I have been dragged, half-drowned like a rotten ewe, from the bottom of a
river; and who knows but I may be next dragged quite dead from the bottom
of a coal-pit--if so be as I am, I shall go to hell to be sure, for being
consarned like in my own moorder, that I will, so I will; for, a plague
on it! I had no business with the vagaries of this crazy-peated measter
of mine, a pox on him, say I."

He had just finished this soliloquy as he entered the apartme