ho in Scotland can promise himself eight hours'
uninterrupted repose?--then smell at the strong essence contained in
this pouncet box. And now, farewell, sir knight; and if you cannot think
of me as a man of nice conscience, acknowledge me at least as one of
reason and of judgment."

So saying, the mediciner left the room, his usual mean and shuffling
gait elevating itself into something more noble, as conscious of a
victory over his imperious patient.

Sir John Ramorny remained sunk in unpleasing reflections until he began
to experience the incipient effects of his soporific draught. He then
roused himself for an instant, and summoned his page.

"Eviot! what ho! Eviot! I have done ill to unbosom myself so far to this
poisonous quacksalver. Eviot!"

The page entered.

"Is the mediciner gone forth?"

"Yes, so please your knighthood."

"Alone or accompanied?"

"Bonthron spoke apart with him, and followed him almost immediately--by
your lordship's command, as I understood him."

"Lackaday, yes! he goes to seek some medicaments; he will return anon.
If he be intoxicated, see he comes not near my chamber, and permit him
not to enter into converse with any one. He raves when drink has touched
his brain. He was a rare fellow before a Southron bill laid his brain
pan bare; but since that time he talks gibberish whenever the cup has
crossed his lips. Said the leech aught to you, Eviot?"

"Nothing, save to reiterate his commands that your honour be not
disturbed."

"Which thou must surely obey," said the knight. "I feel the summons to
rest, of which I have been deprived since this unhappy wound. At least,
if I have slept it has been but for a snatch. Aid me to take off my
gown, Eviot."

"May God and the saints send you good rest, my lord," said the page,
retiring after he had rendered his wounded master the assistance
required.

As Eviot left the room, the knight, whose brain was becoming more and
more confused, muttered over the page's departing salutation.

"God--saints--I have slept sound under such a benison. But now, methinks
if I awake not to the accomplishment of my proud hopes of power and
revenge, the best wish for me is, that the slumbers which now fall
around my head were the forerunners of that sleep which shall return
my borrowed powers to their original nonexistence--I can argue it no
farther."

Thus speaking, he fell into a profound sleep.

CHAPTER XVI.

On Fastern's E'en when we wa