It was always agreeable to Peter Trusbut and his worthy dame to see their guests enjoy themselves, and the rapidity and gusto with which the dishes were now demolished perfectly satisfied them. Gog and Magog ate more than usual in honour of their brother’s marriage, and the bridegroom’s prowess was hardly inferior to their own. Of course Xit had been present at the wedding, and was likewise a principal guest at the breakfast that followed it. He was in high spirits, and diverted the company by his lively sallies. When the dishes had been removed, he leaped upon the table, goblet in hand, and, in appropriate terms, proposed the health of Og and his bride—a toast which was drunk with great cheers. While they were in the very midst of enjoyment, the door suddenly opened, and a man of exceedingly sinister aspect, and habited in a tight-fitting leathern doublet, appeared at it. At the sight of this ill-favoured personage, the countenances of the company fell, and their laughter ceased. “Who is that strange man?” inquired Lilias of Og, in an under tone. “It is Mauger, the executioner,” replied her husband. “What brings thee here?” he added, half angrily, to the headsman. “I am come to congratulate you on your marriage,” replied Mauger. “Am I not welcome?” “Sit down, and take a cup of wine,” rejoined Og, filling a goblet. “Here’s health to the bonny bride!” cried Mauger, eyeing her curiously as he raised the flagon to his lips. “I do not like his looks,” said Lilias, clinging to her husband. “I wish he had not come.” “Harkye, Mauger,” cried Xit, who was still standing upon the table, “thy presence is unsuited to this festive occasion, and we can, therefore, dispense with thy society.” “I shall not go at thy bidding, thou malapert knave,” rejoined Mauger. “I came to see the bride, not thee.” And he was about to seat himself in the chair left empty by the dwarf, when the latter prevented him, exclaiming,— “That chair is mine. Begone instantly, if thou wouldst not be unceremoniously thrust from the room.” Og seemed inclined to second the dwarf’s threat, but his wife interposed, saying,— “Let him not be turned out, or it may bring us ill luck.” “It _will_ bring you ill luck if I be so dealt with, fair mistress,” rejoined Mauger, with an uncouth attempt at gallantry. And, pushing Xit aside, he sat down in the vacant chair.