t.
Ask his pardon. Ye must change, or he will no taggelt. Go, in weakness,
come in power: mark ye the words. 'Twill make a peal that will be heard
in toon and desert, in the swirls o' the mountain, through pikes and
valleys, and mak' a waaly man o' thee."

The old man with these words, uttered in the broad northern dialect of
his common speech, strode from the room and shut the door. In another
minute he was forth into the storm, pursuing what remained of his long
march to Pindar's Bield.

"Upon my soul!" said Sir Bale, recovering from his sort of stun which
the sudden and strange visit had left, "that's a cool old fellow! Come
to rate me and teach me my own business in my own house!" and he rapped
out a fierce oath. "Change his mind or no, here he sha'n't stay
to-night--not an hour."

Sir Bale was in the lobby in a moment, and thundered to his servants:

"I say, put that fool out of the door--put him out by the shoulder, and
never let him put his foot inside it more!"

But the old man's yea was yea, and his nay nay. He had quite meant what
he said; and, as I related, was beyond the reach of the indignity of
extrusion.

Sir Bale on his return shut his door as violently as if it were in the
face of the old prophet.

"Ask Feltram's pardon, by Jove! For what? Why, any jury on earth would
have hanged him on half the evidence; and I, like a fool, was going to
let him off with his liberty and my hundred pound-note! Ask his pardon
indeed!"

Still there were misgivings in his mind; a consciousness that he did owe
explanation and apology to Feltram, and an insurmountable reluctance to
undertake either. The old dislike--a contempt mingled with fear--not any
fear of his malevolence, a fear only of his carelessness and folly; for,
as I have said, Feltram knew many things, it was believed, of the
Baronet's Continental and Asiatic life, and had even gently remonstrated
with him upon the dangers into which he was running. A simple fellow
like Philip Feltram is a dangerous depository of a secret. This Baronet
was proud, too; and the mere possession of his secrets by Feltram was an
involuntary insult, which Sir Bale could not forgive. He wished him far
away; and except for the recovery of his bank-note, which he could ill
spare, he was sorry that this suspicion was cleared up.

The thunder and storm were unabated; it seemed indeed that they were
growing wilder and more awful.

He opened the window-shutter and looked out upo