e a rejoinder, turned to those about him and said, in a tone of
amazement, "Did you ever hear the like?"

"Nay," cried Matthew, following up his advantage, "ye may hear it
agen, an ye will."

Poor Mrs. Branthwaite seemed sorely distressed. Standing by her
husband's chair, she appeared to be struggling between impulse and
fear in an attempt to put her hand on the mouth of her loquacious
husband, in order to avert the uncertain catastrophe which she was
sure must ensue from this unexpected and uncompromising defiance of
the representative in Wythburn of the powers that be.

Rotha gave Matthew a look of unmistakable gratitude, which, however,
was wasted on that infuriated iconoclast. Fixing his eyes steadily on
the priest, the weaver forthwith gave his reverence more than one
opportunity of hearing the unwelcome outburst again, telling him by
only too palpable hints that the depth of his loyalty was his stipend
of L300 a year, and the secret of his willingness to see Ralph in the
hands of the constable of Carlisle was the fact that the young man had
made no secret of his unwillingness to put off his hat to a priest who
had thrice put off his own hat to a money-bag.

"Gang yer gate back to yer steeple-house, Nicholas Stevens," said
Matthew, "and mortify yer fatherly bosom for the good of the only soul
the Almighty has gean to yer charge, and mind the auld saying, 'Nivver
use the taws when a gloom will do the turn.'"

"You deserve the taws about your back, sirrah, to forget my sacred
office so far as to speak so," said the minister.

"And ye hev forgat yer sacred office to call me nicknames," answered
Matthew, nothing abashed.

"I see you are no better than those blaspheming Quakers whom Justice
Rawlinson has wisely committed to the common gaol--poor famished
seducers that deserve the stocks!"

"Rich folk hev rowth of friends," rejoined Matthew, "an' olas will hev
while the mak of thyself are aboot."

His reverence was not slow to perceive that the pulpit had been no
match for the Red Lion as a place of preparation for an encounter like
the present. Gathering up with what grace he could the tattered and
besmeared skirts of his priestly dignity, he affected contempt for the
weaver by ignoring his remarks; and, turning to those immediately
around him, he proceeded with quite unusual warmth to deliver a homily
on duty. Reverting to the subject of Ralph Ray's flight from Wythburn,
he said that it was well that the you