The pages chattered with a malicious laugh at a distance, and the seneschal came stalking near, in a sort of confused astonishment, to take a nearer view of this talking phenomenon. He came and looked over him without altering a muscle of his face; and the friar, irritated by pain and the contempt shewn toward his sufferings, went on. At any other time he would haply have been chilled by the pale frigid countenance, shagged beard, and glazed unearthly eye that were now bent over him; but in the present state of his feelings he disregarded them; and, though convinced that he spoke to the mighty enchanter himself, continued his harangue:-- "Come thou near unto me that I may curse thee. Thou child of all unrighteousness, art thou not already cursed among the children of men? Where are the wealth and the cheerfulness, where are the welcome, and the faces of joy and mirth, that are to be met with at the houses of thy kinsmen whose bread I eat? Where the full basket and the welcome store? the wine that giveth its colour in the glass? the sounds of mirth and gladness? the sounds of the song, the viol, and the harp? And where is thy tongue, that thou canst not speak?" cried the friar, elevating his voice to its highest and most impatient tones. "Humph," said Gourlay. "Humph!" returned the friar; "What dost thou mean by humph? Tell me, in one word, Art thou the lord of this castle?" "No; but his seneschal," said Gourlay; "What hast thou to say?" "Then lead me to thy master, that I may see him face to face, and tell him the words of him that sent me. I will not be afraid of these dogs of thine and thy master's. What is become of thy tongue that thou dost not speak? Tell me, I say, can I see thy master?" "Perhaps," said Gourlay; and, seizing the friar by the shoulder with a rude but powerful grasp, he dragged him in at the gate. "With-hold thine hand, and thy unmannerly grasp," said the friar,--"else I will smite thee with the sword." The seneschal regarded this threat only with a grim unmeaning smile; and as he held the friar by the right arm so firmly that he even lost the power of it, it was impossible for him to draw his sword. "Nay but hearken unto me," continued he; "surely it is better for thee to live than to die. Therefore bring in my beast that he may have provender; and let me also bring my goods and my changes of raiment along with me in peace, else how shall I set up my face before thy master?" The seneschal then paused, and motioned with his hand to the pages to bring the panniers; they ran to obey, but as soon as any of them touched the huge wallet, he hastened back and fell to the ground. "Vermin! cannot you bring the furniture?" cried Gourlay. They shook their heads, and stood at a distance.