"Oh, very," responded Joseph, with a shake of the head: "he's determined to pursue them to the very extremity of the law."
Upon hearing this, Grimaldi was much troubled in mind; not that he thought Spencer was a man likely to betray his friends, but fearing that by some inadvertence he might disclose what he felt certain his will would prompt him to conceal. As to Bologna, his agitation alone was sufficient to announce the real state of the fact; for, in addition to a ghastly paleness which overspread his face, he trembled so much, that in an attempt to convey some wine to his lips, he deposited it upon his knees and left it there, staring all the while at the gamekeeper with a most crest-fallen visage.
"There's one thing the squire appears to have forgotten," said Spencer, "and that is simply this—that before he can pursue these fellows to the extremity of the law, he has got to find them."
"True," answered Joseph; "and unless you assist me, I'm afraid I sha'n't be able to do that. I suppose, now, there are a good many Clowns and Harlequins in London,—eh?"
"A great many," replied Spencer. "I am one, for instance."
"Oh!" smiled the gamekeeper, "but it isn't you."
"That's true," said the host, composedly. "But I'll tell you what; it is two particular friends of mine, though, who did it!"
Joseph exclaimed, "Indeed!" and Bologna gave Grimaldi a look which clearly evidenced his conviction, firstly, that it was all up, and secondly, that it was impossible to "cut away."
"Friends of yours—hey?" said Joseph, ruminating. "Then I expect you wont assist me in finding them out?"
"Not a bit of it," answered Spencer, "so you may go and look among the Harlequins and Clowns yourself, and Heaven help you! for the jokes they will play and the tricks they will serve you will be enough to wear your heart out."