Ashwoode looked vacantly in Chancey's face, and then upon the stately door of the old house, and suddenly recollecting himself, he said with strange alacrity,—
"Ay, ay—at Morley Court—so we are. Come, then, gentlemen, let us get down."
Accordingly the three companions descended from the conveyance, and entered the ancient dwelling-house together.
"Follow me, gentlemen," said Ashwoode, leading the way to a small, oak-wainscoted parlour. "You shall have refreshments immediately."
He called the servant to the door, and continued addressing himself to Chancey, and his no less refined companion.
"Order what you please, gentlemen—I can't think of these things just now; and, sirrah, do you hear me, bring a large vessel of water—my throat is literally scorched."
"Well, Mr. Chancey, what do you say?" said Grimes. "I'm for a couple of bottles of sack, and a good pitcher of ale, to begin with, in the way of liquor."
"Well, it wouldn't be that bad," said Chancey. "What meat have you on the spit, my good man?"
"I don't exactly know, sir," replied the wondering domestic; "but I'll inquire."
"And see, my good man," continued Chancey, "ask them whether there isn't some cold roast beef in the buttery; and if so, bring it up in a jiffy, for, I declare to G—d I'm uncommon hungry; and let the cook send up a hot joint directly;—and do you mind, my honest man, light a bit of a fire here, for it's rather chill, and put plenty of dry sticks——"