Young Tantillion nudged his nearest companion with his elbow.
"Jack Oxon," he said. "Where rides the fellow at this time of night?"
"Eh, Jack!" he said, aloud, "art on a journey already, after shining at the Court ball?"
Sir John started, and seeing who spoke, answered with an ugly laugh.
"Ay," said he, "I ride to the country in hot haste. I go to Wickben in Essex, to bring back a thing I once left there."
"'Twas a queer place to leave valuables," said Tom—"a village of tumble-down thatched cottages. Was't a love-token or a purse of gold?"
Sir John gave his knee a sudden joyous slap, and laughed aloud.
"'Twas a little thing," he replied, "but 'twill bring back fortune—if I find it—and help me to pay back old scores, which is a thing I like better." And his grin was so ugly that Tom and his companions glanced aside at each other, believing that he was full of liquor already, and ready to pick a quarrel if they continued their talk. This they were not particularly inclined to, however, and began a game of cards, leaving him to himself to finish his drink. This he did, quickly tossing down both brandy and coffee the instant they were brought to him, and then striding swaggering from the room and mounting his horse, which waited in the street, and riding clattering off over the stones at a fierce pace.
"Does he ride for a wager?" said Will Lovell, dealing the cards.
"He rides for some ill purpose, I swear," said Tom Tantillion. "Jack Oxon never went in haste towards an honest deed; but to play some devil's trick 'tis but nature to him to go full speed."