In they stalk, got up in grotesque improvisations of mumming costume, and each armed with a wooden sword, and garrying a ghostly lantern hollowed out of a giant turnip, “Hara domes in Galoshin,” as that individual himself informs the company —being doubtless the traditional representative of some forgotten Templar Knight; and presently he is engaged in a sanguinary hand-to-hand encounter with another wooden-sworded champion upon the floor.