"And the lock it fits to," said Lawrence, taking the key and examining it curiously, "lies, you say, in the sphinx's throat yonder?"
The goldsmith nodded. "And the tale goes on to say," he added, "as I tell you, that they who push far enough along the passage, when they get to the bottom of the little staircase the panel opens upon, would find themselves in the room that is now the king's own bed-chamber. But I'd not care to be making the quest."
"Why not?"
The key.
"I' faith! 'tis possible, for one thing, his majesty might not care for the intrusion," laughed Alworth; "and for a greater reason, I've no fancy to be breaking my shins over broken-backed old stone floors and slimy steps, or running my head against these fine new stone posts of Master Samuel's, let them be never so mighty well turned. No; thank you for nothing!" continued Alworth with a sapient shake of his grizzled periwig. "I'm quite content to be in possession of the secret without putting my knowledge to the proof. And hark you, young gentleman," he went on more gravely, "if I've confided it to you, 'tis because—. Eh! eh! somehow I tripped upon it; but 'tis safe enough with you. You're not a man to betray secrets. You'll not put your knowledge to any ill use," he went on, as Lawrence made no reply, but bent his head lower and lower over the key. "'Twill go in at one ear and out at t'other, eh? By your leave," he went on, stretching out his hand for the key, which, however, Lawrence seemed in no hurry to give back, but sat dangling it in his fingers, lost, apparently, in deep thought.
"Ah, ha! I see how it is," laughed the goldsmith; "you'd be for reading my sphinx's riddle, Master Harum-Scarum Christopher Columbus. But I'll have none o' that. Come, no tricks. Give it back. No tricks," continued Alworth, as Lawrence obeyed and gave up the precious key. "So, lie you there safe and snug," he went on, slipping the key on to the chain again, and putting it neatly into the breast of his coat,—"safe and snug, little friend. And as for you, Master Lee, if you'll take my advice you'll be getting between the sheets Marjory has spread for you in the Blue Room above stairs."
"Many thanks," replied Lawrence, shaking his head; "but that is not possible. I should be back at Nether Hall before mid-day to-morrow; and 'tis a longish journey. In an hour's time I ought to be upon the road."
Nature's soft nurse.
"Tut, tut, man. Bed is the place for you to-night, and not a horse's saddle. Already your eyes shine like candles kindled at both ends. Six-and-thirty-hours it is, by your own showing, since you've closed 'em; and you know what Will of Warwick—and he speaks sound sense, mind you, does Will—of Warwick; as good as any of your modish Sedleys, and Shadwells, and—and—'sleep, sleep, Nature's'—how does it go? Why, to be sure—'Nature's soft—nurse.' Come, Master Lee, how goes it? You should know. By my faith, but you should. Ay—so it runs—'How have I frighted thee.' Marry, come up! What's next? 'That thou—no more shouldst weigh mine eyelids down'—and—and—"
But then, like a wise physician who puts faith in his own prescription, Master Alworth's senses sank steeped in forgetfulness, his head drooped gently among the cushions, and a profound snore fell upon the silence.