n he saw him at a
hundred yards distance, standing composedly with the rest of the group,
the flesh of the champion, like that of the old Spanish general, began
to tremble, in anticipation of the dangers into which his own venturous
spirit was about to involve it. Yet the consciousness of being
countenanced by the neighbourhood of so many friends, the hopes that
the appearance of such odds must intimidate the single intruder, and the
shame of abandoning an enterprise in which he had volunteered, and
when so many persons must witness his disgrace, surmounted the strong
inclination which prompted him to wheel Jezabel to the right about, and
return to the friends whose protection he had quitted, as fast as her
legs could carry them. He accordingly continued his direction towards
the stranger, who increased his alarm considerably by putting his little
nag in motion, and riding to meet him at a brisk trot. On observing this
apparently offensive movement, our hero looked over his left shoulder
more than once, as if reconnoitring the ground for a retreat, and in the
mean while came to a decided halt. But the Philistine was upon him
ere the bonnet maker could decide whether to fight or fly, and a very
ominous looking Philistine he was. His figure was gaunt and lathy, his
visage marked by two or three ill favoured scars, and the whole man had
much the air of one accustomed to say, "Stand and deliver," to a true
man.

This individual began the discourse by exclaiming, in tones as sinister
as his looks, "The devil catch you for a cuckoo, why do you ride across
the moor to spoil my sport?"

"Worthy stranger," said our friend, in the tone of pacific remonstrance,
"I am Oliver Proudfute, a burgess of Perth, and a man of substance;
and yonder is the worshipful Adam Craigdallie, the oldest bailie of the
burgh, with the fighting Smith of the Wynd, and three or four armed
men more, who desire to know your name, and how you come to take your
pleasure over these lands belonging to the burgh of Perth; although,
natheless, I will answer for them, it is not their wish to quarrel with
a gentleman, or stranger for any accidental trespass; only it is
their use and wont not to grant such leave, unless it is duly asked;
and--and--therefore I desire to know your name, worthy sir."

The grim and loathly aspect with which the falconer had regarded
Oliver Proudfute during his harangue had greatly disconcerted him, and
altogether altered the charact