“What!” said Everard, “are Colonel Desborough and Master Bletson both in the same sleeping apartment?”
“Their honours have so chosen it,” said the man; “and their honours’ secretaries remain upon guard all night.”
“It is the fashion to double guards all over the house,” said Wildrake. “Had I a glimpse of a tolerably good-looking house-maid now, I should know how to fall into the fashion.”
“Peace, fool!” said Everard.—“And where are the Mayor and Master Holdenough?”
“The Mayor is returned to the borough on horseback, behind the trooper, who goes to Oxford for the reinforcement; and the man of the steeple-house hath quartered himself in the chamber which Colonel Desborough had last night, being that in which he is most likely to meet the—your honour understands. The Lord pity us, we are a harassed family!”
“And where be General Harrison’s knaves,” said Tomkins, “that they do not marshal him to his apartment?”
“Here—here—here, Master Tomkins,” said three fellows, pressing forward, with the same consternation on their faces which seemed to pervade the whole inhabitants of Woodstock.
“Away with you, then,” said Tomkins;—“speak not to his worship—you see he is not in the humour.”
“Indeed,” observed Colonel Everard, “he looks singularly wan—his features seem writhen as by a palsy stroke; and though he was talking so fast while we came along, he hath not opened his mouth since we came to the light.”
“It is his manner after such visitations,” said Tomkins.—“Give his honour your arms, Zedekiah and Jonathan, to lead him off—I will follow instantly.—You, Nicodemus, tarry to wait upon me—it is not well walking alone in this mansion.”