he morrow
the evil which has been laid to sleep at night."

"Farewell, then, master," said Conachar, after another look of scorn at
the smith, which he only answered with a laugh--"farewell! and I thank
you for your kindness, which has been more than I deserve. If I have at
times seemed less than thankful, it was the fault of circumstances, and
not of my will. Catharine--" He cast upon the maiden a look of strong
emotion, in which various feelings were blended. He hesitated, as if
to say something, and at length turned away with the single word
"farewell."

Five minutes afterwards, with Highland buskins on his feet and a small
bundle in his hand, he passed through the north gate of Perth, and
directed his course to the Highlands.

"There goes enough of beggary and of pride for a whole Highland clan,"
said Henry. "He talks as familiarly of gold pieces as I would of silver
pennies, and yet I will be sworn that the thumb of his mother's worsted
glove might hold the treasure of the whole clan."

"Like enough," said the glover, laughing at the idea; "his mother was a
large boned woman, especially in the fingers and wrist."

"And as for cattle," continued Henry, "I reckon his father and brothers
steal sheep by one at a time."

"The less we say of them the better," said the glover, becoming again
grave. "Brothers he hath none; his father is a powerful man--hath long
hands--reaches as far as he can, and hears farther than it is necessary
to talk of him."

"And yet he hath bound his only son apprentice to a glover in Perth?"
said Henry. "Why, I should have thought the gentle craft, as it is
called, of St. Crispin would have suited him best; and that, if the son
of some great Mac or O was to become an artisan, it could only be in the
craft where princes set him the example."

This remark, though ironical, seemed to awaken our friend Simon's sense
of professional dignity, which was a prevailing feeling that marked the
manners of the artisans of the time.

"You err, son Henry," he replied, with much gravity: "the glovers' are
the more honourable craft of the two, in regard they provide for the
accommodation of the hands, whereas the shoemakers and cordwainers do
but work for the feet."

"Both equally necessary members of the body corporate," said Henry,
whose father had been a cordwainer.

"It may be so, my son," said the glover; "but not both alike honourable.
Bethink you, that we employ the hands as pledges of frien