"To the end of the world!" answered John Garnet; "only I have not a horse to my name."
There was a simple earnestness in his tone that sufficiently vouched for his fidelity. Katerfelto, scanning narrowly the resolute countenance and strong active frame, smiled to think that here was a tool shaped expressly for his purpose.
"I might find horseflesh," said he, "if you can find spurs. Will you be ready to mount to-night on my errand, if it should be necessary? My errand," he repeated, in a low, impressive whisper, "and the king's!"
"God bless him!" answered Garnet, while each looked meaningly in the other's face. "I have those in my interest," continued the Charlatan, "aye, at the very council table, who keep me well informed from hour to hour. You will dine as usual. You will crack a bottle of our best, to the king's health. Before sunset, I will tell you when to pull on your boots."
While he spoke a knock was heard at the door, and Waif, glancing softly at John Garnet, brought the Patron a letter left by a man who looked like the light-porter of some city warehouse. It contained these lines:
"The invoices are already forwarded. Prices ruling high; hemp likely to rise. Realise at once, not a moment to be lost."
Twice Katerfelto perused it with an anxious brow, then he turned to John Garnet, and observed, carelessly:
"A stroll before dinner will do you no harm. Come with me to the next street, I want your opinion of a horse I keep there."
So congenial a request met with an eager affirmative. In the flush of returning health, John Garnet longed keenly for the fresh outward air. And to see a horse again, even in another man's stable, was a return to life and all that made life enjoyable once more.
The Doctor wrapped himself, though it was summer, in a long black cloak and drew a square cap down to his very eyebrows, before he crossed the threshold, precautions which seemed scarcely necessary for purposes of concealment, inasmuch as he led his visitor along two or three unfrequented bye-lanes, to an old tumble-down building, that looked more like a dilapidated pigeon-house, than the dwelling of so noble an animal as the horse.