"No; but Giles Raisley saw him, and he warn't astir when Giles went on his morning shift at eight o'clock."
The blacksmith broke into a loud guffaw.
"Tell us how he was at the Hawk and Heron in London at midsummer."
"And so he was," said Gubblum, unabashed.
"Willy-nilly, ey?" said the blacksmith, pausing over the anvil with uplifted hammer, the lurid reflection of the hot iron on his face.
"Maybe he had his reasons for denying hisself," said Gubblum.
The blacksmith laughed again, tapped the iron with the hand-hammer, down came the sledge, and the flakes flew.
Two miners entered the smithy.
"Good-morning, John; are ye gayly?" said one of them.
"Gayly, gayly! Why, it's Giles hissel'!"