of houses, with their
whitened timbers standing out from their walls, and their pediments
and the windows that were dormered into their roofs seemed to reel
about him and dance in fantastic figures before his eyes.

The incident of that morning had created an impression among the
townspeople. There was a curious absence of unanimity as to the crime
with which the prisoner would stand charged; but Robbie noticed that
everybody agreed that it was something terrible, and that nobody
seemed to suffer much in good humor by reason of the fate that hung
over a fellow-creature. "Very shocking, very. Come, John, let's have a
glass together!"

Robbie had turned into a byway that bore the name of King's Arms Lane.
He paused without purpose or thought before a narrow recess in which a
quaint old house stood back from the street. With its low flat windows
deeply recessed into the stone, its curious heads carved long ago into
bosses that were now ruined by frost and rain, it might have been a
wing of the old abbey that had wandered somehow away. A little man,
far in years, pottered about in front, brushing the snow and cleaning
the windows.

"Yon man is just in time for the 'sizes," said a young fellow as he
swung by with another, who was pointing to the house and muttering
something that was inaudible to Robbie.

"What place is this?" said Robbie, when they had gone, stepping up to
the gate and addressing the old man within.

"The judges' lodgings surely," replied the caretaker, lifting his eyes
from his shovel with a look of surprise at the question.

"And the 'sizes, when are they on?"

"Next week; that's when they begin."

The ancient custodian was evidently not of a communicative
temperament, and Robbie, who was in no humor for gossip, turned away.

It was of little use to remain longer. All was over. The worst had
come to the worst. He might as well turn towards home. But how hot his
forehead felt! Could it have been that ducking his head in the river
at Wythburn had caused it to burn like a furnace?

Robbie thought of Sim. Why had he not met him in his long ramble
through the town? They might have gone home together.

At the corner of Botcher-gate and English Street there stood two
shops, and as Robbie passed them the shopkeepers were engaged in an
animated conversation on the event of the morning. "I saw him go by
with the little daft man; yes, I did. I was just taking down my
shutters, as it might be so," said