“Why, master,” said Geoffery, “you have sent them out of harm’s way, I hope; but—­I know not what ails me—­an uneasy night of it I have had about them.”

“What hast thou seen?” eagerly demanded Hildebrand.

“Seen!  I have seen nothing, but I have been haunted at all quarters by a vast crowd of vexatious busy dreams—­about cut-throats and murderers.”

“Who says murderer?—­I will have thee in the stocks.”

Hildebrand attempted to lay hold on him as he spoke; but, accustomed to these outbreaks of temper, Master Hardpiece merely stepped on one side, still maintaining his usual forward and self-sufficient demeanour.

“Mr Hildebrand Wentworth, when an old servant”——­

“Peace!” interrupted his master,—­“I am chafed beyond endurance.”  He struck his forehead violently, but suddenly recollecting himself, he seized Geoffery by the arm.

“What sawest thou last night, knave?”

“Only dreams, master—­but”——­

“Say on—­what makes thee hesitate?”

“A messenger arrived last night.”

“A messenger!—­from whence?” eagerly demanded Hildebrand.

“Unluckily,” said Geoffery, “it was shortly after you had retired for the night; I durst not then trouble you with the message.  Marry, it’s not the sort of news one likes to be in a hurry to tell.”

“Go on, varlet.”

“Why,” continued the provoking simpleton, looking as if he had to reveal unpleasant tidings, and drawing back as he spoke, “the bearer is in the train of some herald or pursuivant, come from o’er sea to our court, about exchange of prisoners and the like.  This man has a message from Sir Henry Fairfax.”

“He lies!  I’ll have his tongue bored!” furiously cried Hildebrand.

“Nay, but listen:  he says Sir Henry, whom we all thought dead, is now alive, and a prisoner in some ugly old German fortress.”

During this recital the astonished Hildebrand clenched his hands, with a look of awful and impotent rage.  Hardpiece continued—­

“This coxcomb says he was sent specially by Sir Henry to obtain from you some papers of great moment, which will ensure his immediate release.  He bears Sir Henry’s signet, and the knave hath no lack of assurance.”

“Has this fellow had any communication with the menials, Geoffery?—­or hast thou done me the service to keep him and his message to thyself?” anxiously inquired Hildebrand.

“Why, as touching that, Alice, somehow or other,—­for these women are always looking to anybody’s business but their own,—­wormed out his message in part, before I was aware of her drift.”

“Alice!—­Again has that viper crossed my path?—­Bid the messenger attend.”

When Geoffery returned he was followed by a short, muscular-looking personage, attired in a foreign garb.  A military cloak, and slouched hat, garnished with a broad band and feather, gave him altogether an air of importance which his bare exterior had not sustained.  On entering he made a slight obeisance.  Hildebrand watched his bearing, as if he would have searched him to the heart’s core.  Not in the least disconcerted, the soldier threw himself on a seat.  Preliminaries were waived by this unceremonious guest, who, speaking evidently in a foreign accent, began the interrogatory as follows:—­