rute Bonthron," said Ramorny, "is startled at the apprehension of
such a thing, and speaking of being rather willing to stand the combat.
What think'st thou? He is a fellow of steel."

"It is the armourer's trade to deal with steel," replied Dwining.

"Were Bonthron to fall, it would little grieve me," said Ramorny;
"though I should miss an useful hand."

"I well believe your lordship will not sorrow as for that you lost in
Curfew Street. Excuse my pleasantry, he, he! But what are the useful
properties of this fellow Bonthron?"

"Those of a bulldog," answered the knight, "he worries without barking."

"You have no fear of his confessing?" said the physician.

"Who can tell what the dread of approaching death may do?" replied the
patient. "He has already shown a timorousness entirely alien from his
ordinary sullenness of nature; he, that would scarce wash his hands
after he had slain a man, is now afraid to see a dead body bleed."

"Well," said the leech, "I must do something for him if I can, since it
was to further my revenge that he struck yonder downright blow, though
by ill luck it lighted not where it was intended."

"And whose fault was that, timid villain," said Ramorny, "save thine
own, who marked a rascal deer for a buck of the first head?"

"Benedicite, noble sir," replied the mediciner; "would you have me, who
know little save of chamber practice, be as skilful of woodcraft as
your noble self, or tell hart from hind, doe from roe, in a glade at
midnight? I misdoubted me little when I saw the figure run past us to
the smith's habitation in the wynd, habited like a morrice dancer; and
yet my mind partly misgave me whether it was our man, for methought he
seemed less of stature. But when he came out again, after so much time
as to change his dress, and swaggered onward with buff coat and steel
cap, whistling after the armourer's wonted fashion, I do own I was
mistaken super totam materiem, and loosed your knighthood's bulldog upon
him, who did his devoir most duly, though he pulled down the wrong deer.
Therefore, unless the accursed smith kill our poor friend stone dead on
the spot, I am determined, if art may do it, that the ban dog Bonthron
shall not miscarry."

"It will put thine art to the test, man of medicine," said Ramorny; "for
know that, having the worst of the combat, if our champion be not killed
stone dead in the lists, he will be drawn forth of them by the heels,
and without further ceremo