A stiff, formally-cut coat of cinnamon-coloured cloth, with rows of plate buttons, each of the size of a crown piece, on the sleeves, pockets, and skirts, reached the middle of his legs; and his costume was completed by the silver-hilted sword at his side, and the laced hat under his left arm. " "I am not, by Heaven," returned the knight, solemnly. He returned figuratively to his bed—the bed he had made for himself and in which he must for ever lie. He trembled, not from any superstitious dread, but from an undefined sense of approaching danger.
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