e
knight, with marks of the most violent emotion.--Clarke, terrified at his
looks, replied, "I beg your pardon a thousand times; I did not say
positively she did speak those words; but I apprehended she did speak
them. Words, which may be taken or interpreted by law in a general or
common sense, ought not to receive a strained or unusual construction;
and ambiguous words"--"Speak, or be dumb for ever!" exclaimed Sir
Launcelot, in a terrific tone, laying his hand on his sword. "What young
lady, ha? What name did she call upon?"--Clarke, falling on his knees,
answered, not without stammering, "Miss Aurelia Darnel; to the best of my
recollection, she called upon Sir Launcelot Greaves."--"Sacred powers!"
cried our adventurer, "which way did the carriage proceed?"

When Tom told him that the coach quitted the post-road, and struck away to
the right at full speed, Sir Launcelot was seized with a pensive fit; his
head sunk upon his breast, and he mused in silence for several minutes,
with the most melancholy expression on his countenance; then recollecting
himself, he assumed a more composed and cheerful air, and asked several
questions with respect to the arms on the coach, and the liveries worn by
the servants? It was in the course of this interrogation, that he
discovered he had actually conversed with one of the footmen, who had
brought back Crabshaw's horse. A circumstance that filled him with
anxiety and chagrin, as he had omitted to inquire the name of his master,
and the place to which the coach was travelling; though, in all
probability, had he made these inquiries, he would have received very
little satisfaction, there being reason to think the servants were
enjoined secrecy.

The knight, in order to meditate on this unexpected adventure, sat down
by his old friend, and entered into a reverie, which lasted about a
quarter of an hour, and might have continued longer had it not been
interrupted by the voice of Crabshaw, who bawled aloud, "Look to it, my
masters--as you brew you must drink--this shall be a dear day's work to
some of you; for my part, I say nothing--the braying ass eats little
grass--one barber shaves not so close, but another finds a few stubble--
you wanted to catch a capon, and you've stole a cat--he that takes up his
lodgings in a stable, must be contented to lie upon litter."

The knight, desirous of knowing the cause that prompted Timothy to
apothegmatise in this manner, looked through the g