"Now, by my honest word, and by the best glove I ever made," said Simon, "thou shalt help him with liquor from that cup and flagon, if thee and I are to abide under one roof." Conachar arose sullenly upon hearing this threat, and, approaching the smith, who had just taken the tankard in his hand, and was raising it to his head, he contrived to stumble against him and jostle him so awkwardly, that the foaming ale gushed over his face, person, and dress.
Good natured as the smith, in spite of his warlike propensities, really was in the utmost degree, his patience failed under such a provocation.
He seized the young man's throat, being the part which came readiest to his grasp, as Conachar arose from the pretended stumble, and pressing it severely as he cast the lad from him, exclaimed: "Had this been in another place, young gallows bird, I had stowed the lugs out of thy head, as I have done to some of thy clan before thee." Conachar recovered his feet with the activity of a tiger, and exclaimed: "Never shall you live to make that boast again!" drew a short, sharp knife from his bosom, and, springing on Henry Smith, attempted to plunge it into his body over the collarbone, which must have been a mortal wound.

But the object of this violence was so ready to defend himself by striking up the assailant's hand, that the blow only glanced on the bone, and scarce drew blood.

To wrench the dagger from the boy's hand, and to secure him with a grasp like that of his own iron vice, was, for the powerful smith, the work of a single moment.
Conachar felt himself at once in the absolute power of the formidable antagonist whom he had provoked; he became deadly pale, as he had been the moment before glowing red, and stood mute with shame and fear, until, relieving him from his powerful hold, the smith quietly said: "It is well for thee that thou canst not make me angry; thou art but a boy, and I, a grown man, ought not to have provoked thee.

But let this be a warning." Conachar stood an instant as if about to reply, and then left the room, ere Simon had collected himself enough to speak.

Dorothy was running hither and thither for salves and healing herbs.