“Equerry to your lordship's master of the horse,” answered Lambourne, with his customary assurance.
“Tie up thy saucy tongue, sir,” said Leicester; “the jests that may suit Sir Richard Varney's presence suit not mine. How soon wilt thou overtake thy master?”
“In one hour's riding, my lord, if man and horse hold good,” said Lambourne, with an instant alteration of demeanour, from an approach to familiarity to the deepest respect. The Earl measured him with his eye from top to toe.
“I have heard of thee,” he said “men say thou art a prompt fellow in thy service, but too much given to brawling and to wassail to be trusted with things of moment.”
“My lord,” said Lambourne, “I have been soldier, sailor, traveller, and adventurer; and these are all trades in which men enjoy to-day, because they have no surety of to-morrow. But though I may misuse mine own leisure, I have never neglected the duty I owe my master.”
“See that it be so in this instance,” said Leicester, “and it shall do thee good. Deliver this letter speedily and carefully into Sir Richard Varney's hands.”
“Does my commission reach no further?” said Lambourne.
“No,” answered Leicester; “but it deeply concerns me that it be carefully as well as hastily executed.”
“I will spare neither care nor horse-flesh,” answered Lambourne, and immediately took his leave.
“So, this is the end of my private audience, from which I hoped so much!” he muttered to himself, as he went through the long gallery, and down the back staircase. “Cogs bones! I thought the Earl had wanted a cast of mine office in some secret intrigue, and it all ends in carrying a letter! Well, his pleasure shall be done, however; and as his lordship well says, it may do me good another time. The child must creep ere he walk, and so must your infant courtier. I will have a look into this letter, however, which he hath sealed so sloven-like.” Having accomplished this, he clapped his hands together in ecstasy, exclaiming, “The Countess the Countess! I have the secret that shall make or mar me.—But come forth, Bayard,” he added, leading his horse into the courtyard, “for your flanks and my spurs must be presently acquainted.”