Gilbert Oglander looked at his uncle in astonishment.
"I must confess I have never yet found Timothy Trollope to be aught else than a good and faithful servant," said he, "nor do I see any possible reason why he should not accompany me. He is the son of a very worthy tradesman in Plymouth, and I have ever known him to speak the truth and to act in all matters as beseemeth an honest youth."
"Speaks the truth!" cried Jasper, leaning forward on his saddle to adjust his horse's rein that had got twisted; "speaks the truth, say you? Body o' me! why, 'twas only two nights since that I caught him in one of the blackest of lies. Nay," he added, seeing the incredulity in Gilbert's face, "there is no need to dwell upon the matter. I will not repeat so base a slander."
"But 'tis only right that I should know it, uncle," pursued Gilbert. "If Trollope be indeed untruthful 'twere well that I should not be kept in ignorance. Prithee, tell me what the lie was that he told thee."
Jasper rode on in silence for several minutes as if in doubt.
"The lie was this," he said at last. "He declared that thy mother, the Lady Betty, was in her secret heart of the Romish Church, and that she was even now, unknown to my Lord Champernoun, carrying on a political intrigue with the King of Spain."
Gilbert reined in his horse and regarded his uncle for a moment in bewilderment.
"What?" he cried. "Dost tell me that Timothy said such things as that? Nay, I can scarce believe it. The scoundrel! the base ingrate! 'Tis a deliberate, scandalous falsehood!"
Jasper nodded and said: "Right glad I am to see that thou look'st upon the matter thus seriously, Gilbert. I only marvel how the knave could have dared to say such a thing in my hearing. But 'tis ever the way with these low-born and ill-bred louts. I'd have no more to do with him an I were thou. Let the dog go back to the gutter whence you took him."