“What will you take, Sir William—some venison? There is a fine haunch at the other end of the table.”
“You ought to take a prisoner, Sir William,” whispered Desmond.
“So I will presently,” replied the sheriff in the same tone. “But I will begin with the venison. Is the Pretender here?”
“I don't see him, Sir William,” replied the official, looking round inquisitively at the guests. “But I can't quite distinguish the features of the persons at the bottom of the table. Stay! there is some one rather like him next to Sir John Webb.”
“Be quite sure you are right,” said the sheriff. “It won't do to make a second mistake.”
Meantime, the venison was brought, and proved so good that the sheriff made no objection to a few more slices. At the same time he very readily accepted Mr. Forster's challenge to a glass of claret.
He was now in a much better humour, and partook of several other dishes, and repeatedly emptied the goblet which was constantly replenished by the butler.
The generous wine did its duty, and he almost forgot his errand. He had no one now to remind him of it, for Jesmond had been lured to the sideboard by the butler, and a flask of claret proffered him. He did not decline the attention. Since his chief was enjoying himself he did not see why he should not follow his example.
But it was not merely Mr. Forster who was attentive in the extreme to his unwelcome guest. Lord Derwentwater and Lord Widdrington, with both of whom Sir William Lorraine was well acquainted, though political and religious differences kept them apart—these two proud nobles, we say, quite unbent, and were excessively complaisant, inviting him to take wine, and conversing very familiarly with him.
Sir John Webb pursued the same course, and as he drank a glass of wine with the sheriff, he gave him a knowing look, just to remind him of the recent adventure. Sir William laughed very good-humouredly.