“Have I not said so—surely, who else? And, as I was remarking to your worshipful father, whether this mischance happened hours, days, months, or years ago, beshrew me if I can venture the smallest guess.”
Master Warner smiled, and observing that some reply was expected from him, said, “Why, indeed, young sir, I fear I am almost as oblivious as yourself. It was not yesterday that you arrived, nor the day before, nor—Sibyll, my child, how long is it since this gentleman hath been our guest?”
“This is the fifth day,” answered Sibyll.
“So long! and I like a senseless log by the wayside, when others are pushing on, bit and spur, to the great road. I pray you, sir, tell me the news of the morning. The Lord Warwick is still in London, the court still at the Tower?”
Poor Adam, whose heart was with his model, and who had now satisfied his temperate wants, looked somewhat bewildered and perplexed by this question. “The king, save his honoured head,” said he, inclining his own, “is, I fear me, always at the Tower, since his unhappy detention, but he minds it not, sir,—he heeds it not; his soul is not on this side Paradise.”
Sibyll uttered a faint exclamation of fear at this dangerous indiscretion of her father’s absence of mind; and drawing closer to Nevile, she put her hand with touching confidence on his arm, and whispered, “You will not repeat this, Sir! my father lives only in his studies, and he has never known but one king!”
Marmaduke turned his bold face to the maid, and pointed to the salt-cellar, as he answered in the same tone, “Does the brave man betray his host?”
There was a moment’s silence. Marmaduke rose. “I fear,” said he, “that I must now leave you; and while it is yet broad noon, I must indeed be blind if I again miss my way.”
This speech suddenly recalled Adam from his meditations; for whenever his kindly and simple benevolence was touched, even his mathematics and his model were forgotten. “No, young sir,” said he, “you must not quit us yet; your danger is not over. Exercise may bring fever. Celsus recommends quiet. You must consent to tarry with us a day or two more.”
“Can you tell me,” said the Nevile, hesitatingly, “what distance it is to the Temple-gate, or the nearest wharf on the river?”