"He is in the very entrails of a sublime study. Not for my beard, grey though it be, dare I break in upon him."
"Mine errand is urgent," said De Vessey; "and, look thee, say a noble cavalier hath great need of succour at his hands."
"Grammercy, sir cavalier, and hath not everybody an errand of like moment?—thy business, peradventure, less urgent than fifty others whose suit I have denied this blessed day. I tell thee, my master may not be disturbed!"
De Vessey held up a coin, temptingly, before the grating. It would not go through, and the crusty Cerberus gently undid a marvellous array of chains, bars, and other ingenious devices, opening a slit wide enough for its insertion.
"Wider! thou trusty keeper," said the artful suitor outside. "I cannot fly though a key-hole!"
A hand was carefully protruded. The cavalier, espying his opportunity, thrust first his sword, afterwards himself, through the aperture, in spite of curses and entreaties from the greedy porter. He was immediately within a dark entrance or vestibule; the astonished and angry menial venting his wrath, in no measured phrases, on the intruder. De Vessey, in a peremptory tone, demanded to be led forthwith into the doctor's presence. The old man delayed for awhile, almost speechless from several causes. His breath was nigh spent. Wrath on the one hand, fear of his master's displeasure on the other, kept him, like antagonist forces, perpetually midway between both.
"Lead the way, knave, or, by the beard of St. Louis, I'll seek him through the house! Quick! thou hast legs; if not, speak! mine errand is urgent, and will not wait."
A stout and determined cavalier, with a strong gripe, and a sword none of the shortest, was not to be trifled with; and, after many expostulations, warnings, threats, had failed of their effect, he at length doggedly consented.
"Thou wilt give me the coin, then, sir cavalier?"
"Ay, when thou hast earned it. Away!"