Chapter 15

He strikes no coin,'tis true, but coins new phrases,
And vends them forth as knaves vend gilded counters,
Which wise men scorn, and fools accept in payment.
OLD PLAY.

In the morning Christie of the Clinthill was nowhere to be seen. As this
worthy personage did seldom pique himself on sounding a trumpet before
his movements, no one was surprised at his moonlight departure, though
some alarm was excited lest he had not made it empty-handed. So, in the
language of the national ballad,

Some ran to cupboard, and some to kist,
But nought was away that could be mist.

All was in order, the key of the stable left above the door, and that
of the iron-grate in the inside of the lock. In short, the retreat had
been made with scrupulous attention to the security of the garrison,
and so far Christie left them nothing to complain of.

The safety of the premises was ascertained by Halbert, who instead of
catching up a gun or cross-bow, and sallying out for the day as had
been his frequent custom, now, with a gravity beyond his years, took a
survey of all around the tower, and then returned to the spence, or
public apartment, in which, at the early hour of seven, the morning
meal was prepared.

There he found the Euphuist in the same elegant posture of abstruse
calculation which he had exhibited on the preceding evening, his arms
folded in the same angle, his eyes turned up to the same cobwebs, and
his heels resting on the ground as before. Tired of this affectation
of indolent importance, and not much flattered with his guest's
persevering in it to the last, Halbert resolved at once to break the
ice, being determined to know what circumstance had brought to the
tower of Glendinning a guest at once so supercilious and so silent.

"Sir Knight," he said with some firmness, "I have twice given you good
morning, to which the absence of your mind hath, I presume, prevented
you from yielding attention, or from making return. This exchange of
courtesy is at your pleasure to give or withhold--But, as what I have
further to say concerns your comfort and your motions in an especial
manner, I will entreat you to give me some signs of attention, that I
may be sure I am not wasting my words on a monumental image."

At this unexpected address, Sir Piercie Shafton opened his eyes, and
afforded the speaker a broad stare; but as Halbert returned the glance
without either confusion or dismay, the knight thought proper to
change his posture, draw in his legs, raise his eyes, fix them on
young Glendinning, and assume the appearance of one who listens to
what is said to him. Nay, to make his purpose more evident, he gave
voice to his resolution in these words, "Speak!