The poor boy, however, received better praise than Andrew was willing to give, and the Earl advancing to where he sat offered a green silk, netted purse, through which glimpses of the ruddy gold made Andrew's eyes sparkle. To the old man's surprise this was also refused.
"Aweel! thae puddocks are queery things, an' I had had the chance of petting my fingers on it, wad I hae refused?"
"What! refuse the purse?" said the Earl, surprised almost as much as Andrew, "you will make but a poor pittance indeed if you refuse your rightful guerdon—the minstrel's due reward."
"Pardon me, this has been an evening of pleasure, the first on which I have smiled for many months. I cannot take money; I am perhaps too proud,—but forgive me, I never took gold before, I have given it oft."
"I understand your feelings," said the Earl; "at least then accept this ring," he continued, as he drew a ring with a fine brilliant off his finger.
"I will, signore; the Holy Virgin bless you for pitying a poor outcast; may you never need the generosity you show. Adieu! Milord Inglese, adieu all you fair ladies, and gentlemen."
"What! are you not coming home with us?"
"No, signore, I cannot; you will pardon me if I seem rude."
Finding all entreaty vain the Earl and his guests re-entered their carriages. This time the Marquis drove, with Johnny at his side; the Earl, his two sisters and Ellen occupied the interior of the carriage, which was closed. In a short time all were gone save two riders—the Captain and Edward L'Estrange; they conversed some time with the mock Italian, and then spurring up their horses into breathless speed reached the Towers as soon as any one else, without exciting any suspicion.