behind this desk appeared the conjurer himself, in sable vestments, his
head so overshadowed with hair, that, far from contemplating his
features, Timothy could distinguish nothing but a long white beard,
which, for aught he knew, might have belonged to a four-legged goat, as
well as to a two-legged astrologer.

This apparition, which the squire did not eye without manifest
discomposure, extending a white wand, made certain evolutions over the
head of Timothy, and having muttered an ejaculation, commanded him, in a
hollow tone, to come forward and declare his name. Crabshaw, thus
adjured, advanced to the altar; and, whether from design, or (which is
more probable) from confusion, answered, "Samuel Crowe." The conjurer
taking up the pen, and making a few scratches on the paper, exclaimed, in
a terrific accent, "How! miscreant! attempt to impose upon the stars?--
You look more like a crab than a crow, and was born under the sign of
Cancer." The squire, almost annihilated by this exclamation, fell upon
his knees, crying, "I pray yaw, my lord conjurer's worship, pardon my
ignorance, and down't go to baind me over to the Red Sea like--I'se a
poor Yorkshire tyke, and would no more cheat the stars, than I'd cheat my
own vather, as the saying is--a must be a good hand at trapping, that
catches the stars a napping--but as your honour's worship observed, my
name is Tim Crabshaw, of the East Raiding, groom and squair to Sir
Launcelot Greaves, baron knaight, and arrant-knaight, who ran mad for a
wench, as your worship's conjuration well knoweth. The person below is
Captain Crowe; and we coom by Margery Cook's recommendation, to seek
after my master, who is gone away, or made away, the Lord he knows how
and where."

Here he was interrupted by the conjurer, who exhorted him to sit down and
compose himself till he should cast a figure; then he scrawled the paper,