“All’s safe,” said Sir Ulick to himself, as he took leave.
“Woodcocked! that he has—as I foresaw he would,” cried King Corny, the moment his guest had departed. “Woodcocked! if ever man did, by all that’s cunning!”
CHAPTER VII.
King Corny sat for some minutes after Sir Ulick’s departure perfectly still and silent, leaning both hands and his chin on his crutch. Then, looking up at Harry, he exclaimed, “What a dupe you are! but I like you the better for it.”
“I am glad you like me the better, at all events,” said Harry; “but I don’t think I am a dupe.”
“No—if you did, you would not be one: so you don’t see that it was and is Sir Ulick, and not her ladyship, that wanted and wants to get rid of you?”
No, Harry did not see this, and would not be persuaded of it. He defended his guardian most warmly; he was certain of Sir Ulick’s affection; he was sure Sir Ulick was incapable of acting with such duplicity.
His majesty repeated, at every pause, “You are a dupe; but I like you the better for it. And,” added he, “you don’t—blind buzzard! as your want of conceit makes you, for which I like you the better, too—you don’t see the reason why he banished you from Castle Hermitage—you don’t see that he is jealous of your rivalling that puppy, Marcus, his son.”