The Gendarmes and the Priest.—­During the Revolution a priest took refuge in the house of a farmer.  Some gendarmes having heard of it came one evening to the house.  The whole family were gathered round the hearth, and among them was the priest, disguised as a servant.  When the soldiers entered every one grew pale; they asked the farmer if there was not a priest concealed in the house.  “Gentlemen,” returned he, without losing his presence of mind, “you see very well there is no priest here; but one might conceal himself in the house without my knowledge; so I will not prevent you from doing your duty; search the house from cellar to garret.”  Then he said to the priest, “I say, Jacques, take your lantern and show these gentlemen everywhere; let them see every corner of the farm.”  The gendarmes made a minute inspection of the house, uttering many imprecations and many menaces against the priest, promising themselves to pay him well for the trouble he had cost them, if they succeeded in discovering him.  Seeing their search was useless, they prepared to leave.  As they were going the farmer said, “Pray gentlemen, remember the boy.”  They gave the disguised priest a small coin, and thanking him for his civility took their leave.

A housemaid in Upper Grosvenor Street, London, going to the cellar for a draught of ale, after the family had retired to bed, glided silently in without a candle.  As she was feeling about for the cask, she put her hand upon something which she immediately perceived to be the head of a man.  The girl, with great fortitude and presence of mind, forebore to cry out, but said, in a tone of impatience, “That stupid creature, Betty, is always putting the mops in the way.”  She then went on to the cask, quietly drew her beer, retired from the cellar, fastened the door, and then alarmed the house.  The man was taken; and afterwards declared, that the maid was entirely indebted to her presence of mind for her life, for had she cried out, he would instantly have murdered her:  but as he firmly believed she mistook his head for a mop, particularly as she had drawn the beer after she had felt it, he let her go without injury.

King James the Fourth of Scotland, who used often to amuse himself in wandering about the country in different disguises, was once overtaken by a violent storm in a dark night, and obliged to take shelter in a cavern near Wemys.  Having advanced some way in it, the king discovered a number of men and women ready to begin to roast a sheep, by way of supper.  From their appearance, he began to suspect that he had not fallen into the best of company; but, as it was too late to retreat, he asked hospitality from them till the tempest was over.  They granted it, and invited the king, whom they did not know, to sit down, and take part with them.  They were a band of robbers and cut-throats.  As soon as they had finished their supper, one of them presented a plate, upon which two daggers were laid in form of