"More than needful, Philip," replied Estoc, "for we do not want to hurt you. But, get off your horse, my good boy, and come hither apart with me, for I have something to say to you."
The page did as he was directed; and Estoc, dismounting also, led him a little on one side, demanding, "Have you got it?"
"Got what?" rejoined the page, with a shy look of affected unconsciousness.
"Come, come--no more of that, Master Philip!" exclaimed Estoc: "I mean the book, as you know well enough."
"Yes, I have got it," answered the boy: "but you must not take it from me indeed, Estoc, for my mistress will be so angry."
"Let me look at it," said Estoc: "you shall have it back again, upon my honour! Have you opened it?"
"No!" cried the page with a look of surprise; "is there anything in it?"
"Yes, prayers, to be sure," replied the old soldier, satisfied by the boy's countenance that he spoke the truth. "Come, let me look at it--you shall have it back, I tell you."
The page drew slowly and unwillingly from a pouch under his arm, the book with its velvet cover and silver clasps, and placed it in Estoc's hand, saying, "You promise to give it back, mind."
"Ay!" answered the old soldier, "and I always keep promises;" and, as he spoke, he unfastened with some difficulty the stiff clasps, which seemed to be tightened in their hold by something swelling out the bulk of the volume.