“I’ll be bound,” said one of the guests, “he was in a bit of a stew, notwithstanding all his brag.”

“Oh!  I don’t believe,” said another, “that anything done that is dangerous, or supposed to be dangerous, by the bravest man, is any way wholly without some uncomfortable feelings.  They may not be strong enough to prevent the thing proposed to be done from being done, but they give a disagreeable sensation to the skin.”

“You have felt it, then?”

“Ha! ha! ha!”

“Why, at that time I slept in the churchyard for a wager, I must say I felt cold all over, as if my skin was walking about me in an uncomfortable manner.”

“But you won your wager?”

“I did.”

“And of course you slept there?”

“To be sure I did.”

“And met with nothing?”

“Nothing, save a few bumps against the gravestones.”

“Those were hard knocks, I should say.”

“They were, I assure you; but I lay there, and slept there, and won my wager.”

“Would you do it again?”

“No.”

“And why not?”

“Because of the rheumatism.”

“You caught that?”

“I did; I would give ten times my wager to get rid of them.  I have them very badly.”

“Come, order, order—­the tale; let’s hear the end of that, since it has begun.”

“With all my heart.  Come, neighbour.”

“Well, as I said, he was fidgetty; but yet he was not a man to be very easily frightened or overcome, for he was stout and bold.

“When he shut himself up in the room, he took out a bottle of some good wine, and helped himself to drink; it was good old wine, and he soon felt himself warmed and, comforted.  He could have faced the enemy.

“If one bottle produces such an effect,” he muttered, “what will two do?”

This was a question that could only be solved by trying it, and this he proceeded to do.

But first he drew a brace of long barrelled pistols from his coat pocket, and taking a powder-flask and bullets from his pocket also, he loaded them very carefully.

“There,” said he, “are my bull-dogs; and rare watch-dogs they are.  They never bark but they bite.  Now, if anybody does come, it will be all up with them.  Tricks upon travellers ain’t a safe game when I have these; and now for the other bottle.”

He drew the other bottle, and thought, if anything, it was better than the first.  He drank it rather quick, to be sure, and then he began to feel sleepy and tired.

“I think I shall go to bed,” he said; “that is, if I can find my way there, for it does seem to me as if the door was travelling.  Never mind, it will make a call here again presently, and then I’ll get through.”

So saying he arose.  Taking the candle in his hand, he walked with a better step than might have been expected under the circumstance.  True it was the candle wagged to and fro, and his shadow danced upon the wall; but still, when he got to the bed, he secured his door, put the light in a safe place, threw himself down, and was fast asleep in a few moments, or rather he fell into a doze instantaneously.