was strictly consistent with the dignity of his situation. "But we had better be on the move-the alert, I mean mean-as the flower of chivalry, the renowned Francis, was wont to say;-fœmina irritata simile est ad felem there is no premising what an enraged harpy may perform; and, luce clarius — it is evident there is nein sleepinhausen here, as the Hollander would aver."

"The devil there is not!" exclaimed Sir Percy, throwing himself from his horse, with infinitely more rapidity than his cautious attendant had practised a few minutes before; and advancing to the door of the hut, he immediately commenced a furious assault with the but end of one of his pistols-"The devil there is not! We shall soon see to that."

"What, in God's name, are ye about?" asked the voice from within, in a shrill and elevated accent; "would ye break down the door?"

"That shall I," said Sir Percy, "unless it be opened all the sooner."

A few whispering voices were again heard, as if in consultation within.

"And what would ye have, were I to remove the bar?" demanded the female voice.

"A night's lodging, ye old beldam,” exclaimed Sir Percy, in great wrath.

"I am a lone woman, and there is nae lodging here," again drawled forth the speaker.

"Open, ye beldam, and I shall see to that," exclaimed Sir Percy. "Myself and horse are alike worn out, and I move not another step this night. Open, I say, or I will fire the thatch of your miserable hut !" And again he seconded his demand by a renewed and still more forcible application, which shook not only the door, but the time-worn hut itself, to its foundation.

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Hold, hold!" exclaimed the voice from within-"hold! I will unbar;"- and, in a slow and unwilling manner, bolt after bolt was undrawn, fastening after fastening removed, and the interior of the smoky hut disclosed to view.

"Ye beldam!" said Sir Percy, stooping as he entered-" one would imagine you had the treasures of the east concealed in your wretched dwelling."

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The El Dorado of the Spaniard," grumbled Jasper Jenkins, as he slowly led

the not unwilling horses to a wretched outhouse, which formed the only stable the place afforded.

"Is it the custom in Scotland to secure your doors after this fashion?" asked Sir Percy, as he entered; "ye were wont to be more hospitable."

No, your honour," said the woman, somewhat subdued, when she saw the formidable appearance of Sir Percy's armed follower, and the graceful but athletic figure of the young man himself, but still speaking in a sulky and discontented voice;— "no, ye'er honour-but the shieling was bespoke; howsomever, I wash my hands o't, and, come what may, I shall neither mak' nor meddle i' the stoor."

As she spoke, Sir Percy entered the kitchen of the hut. The dark red embers

in the grate glanced with a dubious and fitful light, and only partially illuminated the thick, smoky atmosphere by which he was surrounded. The furniture was scanty, and there was a want even of the appearance of comfort about the place, a gloomy, damp receptacle, which struck an almost instantaneous chill upon the light heart of the youthful knight. At the farther corner of the apartment, two men were seated at a table, supported on three legs, the want of the fourth being supplied by a pile of loose stones. A small lamp stood before them, and by its light Sir Percy was enabled to discover that he who appeared to be the elder of the two, and of the higher rank, was clad in a long dark cloak, which covered his person from his shoulders almost to his heels. On his head he wore a slouched Spanish cap of the same colour, but boasting no adornment, save a single black plume or feather, so disposed as to conceal the upper, and shade the lower part of his face. On the left shoulder of his cloak, a small red cross was embroidered; and although

no arms were visible about him, yet his whole dress and appearance seemed of a half military half religious cast, or rather left the spectator in doubt to which class he most properly belonged. His companion was evidently of far inferior rank; and his buff coat and vest, slouched cap and feather, rapier and pistols, together with his bold, free, and unconstrained air, at once bespoke him to belong to that wandering class of deperadoes then abounding in Scotland, who had no settled employment, and were ever ready to attach themselves to the interests of those who for the time had occasion for their services. There was a deep designing look spread over his whole countenance, and a lurking spirit of mischief — of diabolical mischief, in his eyes, that told he would be a dangerous man to contend with, and perhaps a still more dangerous person to possess as a friend. In short, he was exactly of that external character and appearance which Salvator Rosa would have selected for the portrait of a captain or leader of banditti.