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Joseph laughed a cackle of contempt. "Is that the song of a maid whose lover comes not back from the wars?" he asked. "But bethink you, Joseph, the child suspects not the possibility of his having fallen." "Gadswounds, sir, did your daughter give the fellow a thought she must be anxious. A week yesterday since the battle, and no word from him.

And what may you know of gentlemen, Sir Scot? Think you a gentleman is a Jack Presbyter, or a droning member of your kirk committee, strutting it like a crow in the gutter? Gadswounds, boy, when I was your age, and George Villiers lived " "Oh, have done!" broke in the youth impetuously. "Suffer me to leave you, Sir Crispin, to your bottle, your croaking, and your memories."

Rakehelly Galliard is the hero of many a reckless deed, but my judgment is much at fault if this prove not his crowning recklessness and his last one. Gadswounds, sir, are you mad to come hither single-handed to beard the lion in his den?" "Rather the cur in his kennel," sneered Crispin back. "Blood and wounds, Master Joseph, think you to affright me with words?"

May Heaven reward you. Gadswounds," he added, "I had little thought to meet you again this side the grave." "Would to Heaven you had not!" was the doleful answer. "What make you here?" "By your good leave and with your help I'll make as merry as a man may whose sands are all but run.