imony that this Michael was a good man
and true, a godly one to boot, who had been wealthy in his own land and
was a rare artificer in his own craft.

"Though he hath no license to practise it here," threw in Master
Headley, _sotto voce_; but he accepted the assurance that Michael was a
good Christian, and, with his daughter, regularly went to mass; and
since better might not be, he reluctantly consented to leave Giles under
his treatment, on Lucas reiterating the assurance that he need have no
fears of magic or foul play of any sort. He then took the purse that
hung at his girdle, and declared that Master Michael, (the title of
courtesy was wrung from him by the stately appearance of the old man),
must be at no charges for his cousin.

But Abenali with a grace that removed all air of offence from his
manner, returned thanks for the intention, but declared that it never
was the custom of the sons of Ali to receive reward for the hospitality
they exercised to the stranger within their gates. And so it was that
Master Headley, a good deal puzzled, had to leave his apprentice under
the roof of the old sword-cutler for the night at least.

"'Tis passing strange," said he, as he walked back; "I know not what my
mother will say, but I wish all may be right. I feel--I feel as if I
had left the lad Giles with Abraham under the oak tree, as we saw him in
the miracle play!"

This description did not satisfy Mrs Headley, indeed she feared that
her son was likewise bewitched; and when, the next morning, Stephen, who
had been sent to inquire for the patient, reported him better, but still
unable to be moved, since he could not lift his head without sickness,
she became very anxious. Giles was transformed in her estimate from a
cross-grained slip to poor Robin Headley's boy, the only son of a widow,
and nothing would content her but to make her son conduct her to Warwick
Inner Ward to inspect matters, and carry thither a precious relic
warranted proof against all sorcery.

It was with great trepidation that the good old dame ventured, but the
result was that she was fairly subdued by Abenali's patriarchal dignity.
She had never seen any manners to equal his, not _even_ when King
Edward the Fourth had come to her father's house at the Barbican,
chucked her under the chin, and called her a dainty duck!

It was Aldonza, however, who specially touched her feelings. Such a
sweet little wench, with the air of being bred in a kin