"Yet you resented the profanation of her name this afternoon under the oak—dost remember that?"
"I know not who you are, sir," retorted Walter, angrily, and at length fully roused from the respectful silence he had so long maintained, "that you should thus cross and question one who sought not your acquaintance. By heavens, if I were a friend (which, thank God, I am not) of him you call Protector, or King, or whatever it be, I would advise him of such persons; for it is the duty of every honest subject to watch over his ruler, as over his father, with the care and the duty—the tenderness and affection of a child. I should like to know how you knew I had a grey steed?"
"Or how I discovered your ruffle with Sir Willmott Burrell after the funeral," interrupted the other; "but be not afraid of meeting him: he left Cecil Place some days ago, to arrange some business. Nay, now, do not crow loudly your defiance, because I mentioned the word fear. What a game-cock it is! pity, that though there is no white feather, there should be no right feather in so gallant a crest!—Methinks the old porter is long in summoning the grooms, so I will enter in the name of the Lord; and do thou mind, 'Old Thunder,'" he added, in a gentle tone, at the same time patting the curved neck of the noble creature, who turned round his head at the caress, as if in appreciation of its value.
De Guerre took the bridle almost mechanically in his hand, and at the same time muttered, "Left here, like a groom, to hold his horse! By the Lord! I'll groom it for no man—yet, 'tis no disgrace, even to knighthood, to handle a good steed; though I'd bet my poor Jubilee against him.—Ah! here they come—" and he was preparing to resign his charge right gladly to two servants, who advanced from a side-door just as the stranger had mounted the last of a series of broad and platform-like steps leading to the principal entrance. No sooner, however, had the first of the attendants caught sight of the horseman's cloak and broad-brimmed hat of the stranger, than he sprang up the steps, and seized the garment, as the wearer was entering the hall. He turned fiercely round at the assault; but the aggressor, whom De Guerre now recognised as Springall, hung upon him too firmly to be easily shaken off:—he drew his sword half out of its scabbard, and kept his eye fixed upon the youth.
"I was sure of it! I was sure of it!" shouted Springall; "the cloak, the hat—all! Now will I be even with thee for hanging me over the cliff, like a poor fish in a heron's claw, and all for nothing."
"Go to, Springall," said De Guerre, coming up, pleased at observing that the wrathful glance of the stranger had changed into a smiling good-humoured look at the boy's harmless impetuosity: "Go to, Springall; the double-dub and the Canary are in thine eyes, and in thy scatter-pate. What could you know of this strange gentleman?"
"I vow by the compass," replied the boy, suffering his grasp on the cloak to relax, as he gazed in no less amazement on the Cavalier; "we are bewitched! all bewitched! I left you, sir, on your way to Gull's Nest with wee Robin; and here you are keeping company with this very hey-ho sort of—But by the Law Harry! he's off again!" exclaimed Springall, whose astonishment had got the better of his watchfulness, and who perceived, on turning round, that the mysterious gentleman had disappeared.
"You are not going to be mad enough to follow any one into Sir Robert Cecil's hall!" argued De Guerre, at the same time seizing Springall's arm.
"Oh, Lord! oh, Lord! that I should ever live to see you, sir, in league with a bogle! Why, I vow I had the mark of that devil's hand on me in black lumps, just as if I was burnt with what our scourer calls ague-fortys. As I am a living man, he went from off the brow of the cliff, just like a foam-wreath."
"Pshaw! Spring; how can you or any one else tell 'who's who,' on a dark night?"