“I will, Master Henry.”
“I shall read this despatch, then,” continued the cavalier, “since you say that it contains something that may interest me; and, especially, since I do not commit the indiscretion of breaking it open. Ha! ha! Your imprudence, worthy Garth, will save my conscience the reproach of that.”
With a smile playing upon his countenance, the cavalier spread out the despatch; and, holding it down to the light of the blazing logs, soon made himself master of its contents.
Volume One—Chapter Twenty Three.
The purport of the King’s missive to Scarthe did not appear to take Henry Holtspur much by surprise. His bearing betokened, that part of what it contained was known to him already; and the other part he might have been expecting. Enough, however, appeared, in his manner, to convince Gregory Garth, that he had given no offence to his old master in having stripped the courier of his despatch.
Whilst Holtspur was still pouring over the paper, the Indian youth entered; and after standing a moment or two in solemn silence—as if to see whether he was required for any particular purpose—he took a lamp from the table. Having alighted it at the blaze of the fire, he again withdrew. He departed as silently as he had entered; leaving Gregory Garth gaping in true Saxon astonishment, and wondering what part of the world had given birth to this wordless foreigner!
The cavalier after reading the despatch folded it up; and deposited it under the breast of his doublet, as something to be carefully kept. Then turning to the ex-footpad, and pointing significantly to some viands that appeared upon the shelf, he strode out into the corridor, and took his way towards the library—into which Oriole, with the lamp, had already preceded him.
This was a large room, plainly and somewhat scantily furnished. An oaken table stood in the centre, with some chairs of like construction, set scatteringly around the sides. Against the walls were suspended a number of paintings—their subjects scarce distinguishable under an envelope of long neglected dust. Here and there stood bookcases, their shelves close-packed with huge antique tomes, equally the victims of long neglect. Other objects, lying negligently around, appeared to have seen more recent service. There were arms, accoutrements, riding gear, travelling valises, and such like paraphernalia—placed sans façon on chairs, tables, or the floor, and giving evidence that the house was tenanted by one who contemplated only a temporary sojourn.