ciences."

Here the discourse was interrupted by a sudden disaster; in consequence
of which, the squire uttered an inarticulate roar, that startled the
knight himself, who was very little subject to the sensation of fear.
But his surprise was changed into vexation, when he perceived Gilbert
without a rider passing by, and kicking his heels with great agility. He
forthwith turned his steed, and riding back a few paces, found Crabshaw
rising from the ground. When he asked what was become of his horse, he
answered in a whimpering tone, "Horse! would I could once see him fairly
carrion for the hounds--for my part, I believe as how 't is no horse, but
a devil incarnate; and yet I've been worse mounted, that I have--I'd like
to have rid a horse that was foaled of an acorn."

This accident happened in a hollow way, overshadowed with trees, one of
which the storm had blown down, so that it lay over the road, and one of
its boughs projecting horizontally, encountered the squire as he trotted
along in the dark. Chancing to hitch under his long chin, he could not
disengage himself, but hung suspended like a flitch of bacon; while
Gilbert, pushing forward, left him dangling, and, by his awkward gambols,
seemed to be pleased with the joke. This capricious animal was not
retaken, without the personal endeavours of the knight; for Crabshaw
absolutely refusing to budge a foot from his honour's side, he was
obliged to alight, and fasten Bronzomarte to a tree. Then they set out
together, and, with some difficulty, found Gilbert with his neck
stretched over a five-barred gate, snuffing up the morning air. The
squire, however, was not remounted, without first having undergone a
severe reprehension from his master, who upbraided him with his
cowardice, threatened to chastise him on the spot, and declared that he
would divorce his dastardly soul from his body, should he ever be
incommoded or affronted with another instance of his baseborn
apprehension.

Though there was some risk in carrying on the altercation at this
juncture, Timothy, having bound up his jaws, could not withstand the
inclination he had to confute his master. He therefore, in a muttering
accent, protested, that, if the knight would give him leave, he should
prove that his honour had tied a knot with his tongue, which he could not
untie with all his teeth. "How, caitiff!" cried Sir Launcelot, "presume
to contend with me in argument?" "Your mouth is scarce shut," s