Unbuckling his head-piece he hung it on his arm, and verily his breath roared from him like a blacksmith's forge. Thus bared, and with the sunlight shining on his great bald pate, he looked so fat and peaceful--so unwarlike--that I was sorely put to it to save myself from laughing.
"Friend," said he at last, "I count the whinnying of that mare of thine a mercy; but for it I might well have passed thee by."
"True," I agreed; "but, say, what brings you after me in such a headlong fashion?"
John Coram fastened on his head-piece with all the care of some old dame a-tying on her cap, looked up and down the lane, then drawing closer, said:
"Because thou art in peril, friend."
"Ah! and from whom?" I asked, stroking my mare's neck carelessly, for indeed I had got used to peril.
Again John Coram glanced about him, this time taking in the trees as well, as though they might hold danger; then he drew still closer, and, in a low voice, answered:
"Israel Stark!"
At that I started somewhat, for, as you are aware, he named no ordinary open foe, but rather one who lurked in secret places privily to murder. Therefore I paused a moment, looking hard into the steel-framed face before me ere I murmured:
"Ah! so Tubal Ammon is abroad, eh?"