Lintstock winked, and nodded towards Birrel, who, at that moment, for the third or fourth time, was endeavouring stealthily to leave the hall, with the last of the soldiers.
"Come hither, friend Dargavel,—for so I believe them callest thyself,"—said Roland, filling a wooden bicker from the large pot of mulled wine; "is it thus thou stealest away without bidding adieu to me, who am thy host; for thou knowest that I command all here while within the walls. Come, drink with us, friend; 'tis a bad maxim to ride with a fasting stomach, so thou art welcome to a share of this posset, which has simmered overnight by the fire. Dost thou hear me, fellow? Art thou deaf?"
Birrel's visage turned deadly pale, and a perspiration suffused the roots of his hair and matted beard.
"I never drink aught that is stronger than water—never, at any time," said he, with a quavering voice.
"This is false," said Leslie; "for I saw thee dipping thy moustaches, yea, and thy whole beard, in the demi-john last night."
"True—but in the morning I never drink either ale, wine, or usquebaugh—never, sir knights—wi' mony gude thanks for your courtesie?"
"Tarry with us, friend; be not in a hurry," said Roland—at a sign from whom Lintstock placed himself in the doorway—"of what, in the devil's name, does thy morning draught usually consist?"
"Milk," replied Birrel, becoming blanched with fear, and looking round for some friendly hole wherein to hide himself.
"A very hermit in temperance! I regret that, in consequence of all the cattle having escaped, we cannot accommodate you, my pretty man, with a draught of your favourite beverage. But hark you, sir," said Roland, unsheathing his formidable sword; "thou seest this blade?—well, if thou dost not drain this cup of wine to the bottom, I will pass this weapon to the hilt—yea, sirrah, to the very hilt, through thy body!"
"Of all the sights of horror and disgust," says a popular writer, "villany transformed at the death-hour into its natural character and original of cowardice, is among the most appalling." The witch-finder trembled in every limb, and seemed frozen to stone by this command.