an the hardy Robin resolved to
gratify it; and stealing on tiptoe along the wall, he peered cautiously
through the aperture made by the sliding panel. An enormous stuffed
lizard hung from the ceiling, and various strange reptiles, dried into
mummy, were ranged around, and glared at the spy with green glass eyes.
A huge book lay open on a tripod stand, and a caldron seethed over a
slow and dull fire. A sight yet more terrible presently awaited the rash
beholder.

"Adam," said the friar, laying his broad palm on the student's reluctant
shoulders, "inter sapentes."

"Sapientes, brother," groaned Adam.

"That's the old form, Adam," quoth the friar, superciliously,--"sapentes
is the last improvement. I say, between wise men there is no envy. Our
noble and puissant patroness, the Duchess of Bedford, hath committed to
me a task that promiseth much profit. I have worked at it night and day
stotis filibus."

"O man, what lingo speakest thou?--stotis filibus!"

"Tush, if it is not good Latin, it does as well, son Adam. I say I have
worked at it night and day, and it is now advanced eno' for experiment.
But thou art going to sleep."

"Despatch! speak out! speak on!" said Adam, desperately,--"what is thy
achievement?"

"See!" answered the friar, majestically; and drawing aside a black pall,
he exhibited to the eyes of Adam, and to the more startled gaze of Robin
Hilyard, a pale, cadaverous, corpse-like image, of pigmy proportions,
but with features moulded into a coarse caricature of the lordly
countenance of the Earl of Warwick.

"There," said the friar, complacently, and rubbing his hands, "that is
no piece of bungling, eh? As like the stout earl as one pea to another."

"And for what hast thou kneaded up all this waste of wax?" asked Adam.
"Forsooth, I knew not you had so much of ingenious art; algates, the toy
is somewhat ghastly."

"Ho, ho!" quoth the friar, laughing so as to show a set of jagged,
discoloured fangs from ear to ear, "surely thou, who art so notable a
wizard and scholar, knowest for what purpose we image forth our enemies.
Whatever the duchess inflicts upon this figure, the Earl of Warwick,
whom it representeth, will feel through his bones and marrow,--waste
wax, waste man!"

"Thou art a devil to do this thing, and a blockhead to think it, O
miserable friar!" exclaimed Adam, roused from all his gentleness.

"Ha!" cried the friar, no less vehemently, and his burly face purple
with passion, "dost t