eck art thou fitting for
the noose; breeding occupation for the hangsman, I trow."

"Not half so ripe as thine own, gossip. Here be two gentles that have
commission, I guess, to look at the beacons, to see they are in trim and
properly watched. 'Tis well the guard is set. Holloa, Nicholas Dewhurst,
bring the flagon. I am wheezing like an old wife's bellows, nigh
disinherited of my birthright, the free quaffing o' the air. I shall die
and be canonised."

Will, in his eagerness to attain this glorious end, left his companions
with the sentinel, who speedily conducted them into a rude hut, erected
as a temporary shelter to those on the look-out for signals. In this
narrow shed a lamp was burning. Two of the abbot's servants, stretched
before a smouldering heap of turf, were scarcely roused by the
vociferations of Will, as he strode over them in his way to the
provender. A long pull, and a loud smack, announced the satisfactory
relish that ensued.

"Hoa, ye lozel knaves!--who sleeps when Will's awake?" This reflection
was accompanied by a smart blow on that part of the recumbent's person
where it was most conveniently administered.

"Begone, sot!" was the abrupt reply, not over-abundantly expressive of
good humour at this disturbance. Will looked again towards the flagon;
but great was his dismay on beholding it in the very act of disemboguing
its precious contents into another gulf as insatiable as his own. Ralph
Newcome, incited thereto by his own discrimination, together with the
resistless relish of their guide, as soon as the latter had partially
concluded, took up the subject, and long, powerful, and undeviating were
the requisitions that he made.

"Plague on thy civility!--A fly will drink from anybody's cup, and so
will a Yorkshireman," growled the uncourteous churl.

Ralph had, however, braced himself tightly to the task, and stood with
an air of dogged defiance, stoutly confronting his accuser,--though,
being a man of few words, the principal weight of the argument rested
upon Will, whose eloquence was with difficulty interrupted on any
subject.

"Peace," said one of the sleepers, raising himself half-way,--"I think
we be like to bide here till our bones rot. There's nought but the same
dun sky,--black, black, and unchanging. I should like to see a stiff
blaze from some quarter. Our bundle, here, would soon be in a low."

"Hark!" said the other, "'tis something creaking amongst the faggots."

The sentin