the holy tide, were of the best
superfine English broadcloth, light blue in colour, slashed out with
black satin, and passamented (laced, that is) with embroidery of black
silk. His walking boots were of cordovan leather; his cloak of good
Scottish grey, which served to conceal a whinger, or couteau de chasse,
that hung at his belt, and was his only offensive weapon, for he carried
in his hand but a rod of holly. His black velvet bonnet was lined with
steel, quilted between the metal and his head, and thus constituted a
means of defence which might safely be trusted to.

Upon the whole, Henry had the appearance, to which he was well entitled,
of a burgher of wealth and consideration, assuming, in his dress, as
much consequence as he could display without stepping beyond his own
rank, and encroaching on that of the gentry. Neither did his frank and
manly deportment, though indicating a total indifference to danger, bear
the least resemblance to that of the bravoes or swashbucklers of the
day, amongst whom Henry was sometimes unjustly ranked by those who
imputed the frays in which he was so often engaged to a quarrelsome and
violent temper, resting upon a consciousness of his personal strength
and knowledge of his weapon. On the contrary, every feature bore
the easy and good-humoured expression of one who neither thought of
inflicting mischief nor dreaded it from others.

Having attired himself in his best, the honest armourer next placed
nearest to his heart (which throbbed at its touch) a little gift which
he had long provided for Catharine Glover, and which his quality of
Valentine would presently give him the title to present, and her to
receive, without regard to maidenly scruples. It was a small ruby
cut into the form of a heart, transfixed with a golden arrow, and was
inclosed in a small purse made of links of the finest work in steel, as
if it had been designed for a hauberk to a king. Round the verge of the
purse were these words:

Loves darts Cleave hearts Through mail shirts.

This device had cost the armourer some thought, and he was much
satisfied with his composition, because it seemed to imply that his
skill could defend all hearts saving his own.

He wrapped himself in his cloak, and hastened through the still silent
streets, determined to appear at the window appointed a little before
dawn.

With this purpose he passed up the High Street, and turned down the
opening where St. John's Church now sta