rim's appetite for the
marvellous was now in danger of suffering as much from repletion as
before from inanity, and he had just summoned his dame for a special
council, when his ears were assailed by a furious ding-dong. Stroke
upon stroke, huge, heavy, and unceasing, followed each other in rapid
succession. It was the great bell, used only on occasions of emergency
and importance, the hoarse tongue of which had been silent since the day
of Sir William's departure. There was no time to waste in conjecture.
Grim rushed from his dwelling. Convinced that some catastrophe was at
hand, his intention was to climb the hill behind his little hovel, in
order to reconnoitre the premises with greater facility. Sallying forth,
he saw numbers of the peasantry on the same errand. All was bustle and
inquiry; each giving his neighbour credit for the possession of some
intelligence whereby the mystery might be unravelled.

"Sir William cannot have returned!" said one.

"No," replied another, "or the buck would soon butt the Welshman out of
his stall."

"Ha, ha!" said a neighbouring gossip, "those horns are big enough,"
pointing to the device upon the banner--a buck _passant_.

As they drew nearer to the great gate the bell had ceased, when suddenly
appeared, perched on a corner of the tower, the well-known form of "Daft
Humpy." He threw up his cap, caught it, and whirled it round his head
with every demonstration of joyous extravagance. "Hurrah!" shouted he,
with a distinct and shrill enunciation, which might be heard to the very
extremities of the crowd. "Hurrah for Sir William Bradshaigh!--he is
come again!--hurrah, neighbours!--in, in!"

He ran round the battlements with unceasing vociferation. On hearing
this news, numbers entered the gate pell-mell, carrying with them some
who would fain have acted with more discretion, by watching the issue
warily and out of harm's way. Of this class was our stout-fisted friend
Darby Grim, who, though of a well-composed valour when fairly tested,
was yet slow to move, and cared not to thrust his fingers uselessly into
a broil.

The first party that entered was met by Humphry.

"Pick-axes and spades!" cried he, flourishing a stout staff. "To the
dungeon!--come along, come along!" So far from accelerating their speed,
this address seemed at once to suspend all further progress. They gazed
at each other; none wist what to do, naturally not overburdened with
confidence in the discretion of the