ten years agone. It is the day--the very hour of Sir
William's birth!"

He smote his forehead, scarcely able to contain the violence of his
emotion.

"Let that day darken!--let it be cursed with storms and tempest!--let
the shadows of death brood over it, and the teeming night bring tenfold
horrors!--Yet how calm, how peacefully yonder sun approaches in his
strength! Nature is the same--bright, joyous, and unchanging!--Man, man
alone, is mutable--his days are full of mourning and bitterness!"

He bowed his head, crouching almost to the dust, in that overwhelming
agony.

Suddenly he was aroused, and in a manner as unceremonious as unexpected.
A smart blow on the back announced a somewhat uncourteous intruder,
whilst a loud and discordant laugh struck shrilly on his ear. Starting,
he beheld a figure of a low and unshapely stature, clothed in a light
dress, fantastically wrought. A round cap, slouched in front, fitted
closely to his head, from which depended what the wearer no doubt looked
upon as a goodly aggregate of ornaments. These consisted of ear-tassels
and rings of various dimensions, that jingled oddly as he twisted his
head from side to side with a knowing and important grin. A pair of
large leathern boots, slipped on for travelling purposes, with ample
flaps turning down from the knee, formed the lower costume of this
strange being. Round his neck he wore an iron collar: its import,
whether in the shape of punishment or decoration, is at this time
doubtful. A visage of more than ordinary size projected from between a
pair of shoulders that nearly overlooked the lower rim of his cap. A
sort of dubious leer was its predominant expression, heightened ever and
anon by a broad laugh, the eldritch shout of which first announced
itself to the ear of the pilgrim. Matted and shaggy, the twisted locks
hung wildly about his brow, whilst a short and frizzled beard served as
a scanty covering to his chin. A "Sheffield whittle" stuck in his
baldric; and in a pouch was deposited the remnant of a magnificent
pasty. From oft and over replenishment this receptacle gaped in a most
unseemly manner, showing the shattered remains, the crumbling fragments,
of many a huge mountain of crust.

With arms akimbo stood this prepossessing personage before the pilgrim,
in all his native rudeness and disorder. The latter tightened his cloak
about him, and withdrew some three or four paces from his companion.

"Nuncle," said the jester-