andlord, bring me a cup of
the best; and put a little on the fire to warm, with some sugar, for
it's as cold as a raw turnip to one's stomach."

"Humph!" said mine host, testily; "it's a good-for-nothin' belly
that'll not warm cold ale."

"It's good-for-nothin' ale, Giles, thee means, that'll not warm a cowd
belly," said one of the wits of the party, a jolly young blacksmith,
an especial favourite amongst the lasses and good fellows of the
neighbourhood.

"Nay, the dickens!" said another; "Giles Chatburn's ale would warm the
seat of old cloven-foot himsel';" and with that there were roars of
laughing, in which, however, the stranger did not participate. Mike
wondered that so good a joke should not have its due effect upon him;
and many other notable things were said and done which we have neither
space nor inclination to record, but the stranger still maintained his
grave and unaccountable demeanour. Mike ever and anon cast a glance
towards him, and he always observed that the stranger's eye was fixed
upon his own. A dark, bright, burning eye, such as made the recreant
tailor immediately look aside, for he could not endure its brightness.

Mike began to grow restless and uncomfortable. He changed his place,
but the glance of the stranger followed him. It was like the gaze of a
portrait, which, in whatever situation the beholder may be placed, is
always turned towards him. It may readily be supposed that Michael
Waddington, though not averse to being looked at in the ordinary way,
did not relish this continued and searching sort of disposition on the
part of the gentleman in black. Several times he was on the point of
speaking, but his heart always failed him as the word reached his lip.

His liquor was now done, but he was not loth to depart as beforetime;
for at any rate, he should be quit of the annoyance he had so long
endured. He arose with less regret assuredly than usual; and just as
he was passing the doorway he cast a look round over his shoulder, and
beheld the same fixed, unflinching eye gazing on him. He jumped
hastily over the threshold, and was immediately on his road home. He
had not been gone more than a few minutes when he heard a sharp
footstep on the crisp snow behind him. Turning round, he saw the dark
tall peak of the stranger's hat, looking tenfold darker, almost
preternaturally black, on the white background, as he approached. Mike
felt his hair bristling through terror. His knees, usually ben