At such a pace they ascended the gentle hill we have mentioned, and looking from the top, had the pleasure to see that the party which had left Donnington before them were in the little valley or bottom on the other side, where the road was traversed by a rivulet, beside which was a cottage or two.  In this place they seemed to have made a pause, which gave Wayland the hope of joining them, and becoming a part of their company, ere Varney should overtake them.  He was the more anxious, as his companion, though she made no complaints, and expressed no fear, began to look so deadly pale that he was afraid she might drop from her horse.  Notwithstanding this symptom of decaying strength, she pushed on her palfrey so briskly that they joined the party in the bottom of the valley ere Varney appeared on the top of the gentle eminence which they had descended.

They found the company to which they meant to associate themselves in great disorder.  The women with dishevelled locks, and looks of great importance, ran in and out of one of the cottages, and the men stood around holding the horses, and looking silly enough, as is usual in cases where their assistance is not wanted.

Wayland and his charge paused, as if out of curiosity, and then gradually, without making any inquiries, or being asked any questions, they mingled with the group, as if they had always made part of it.

They had not stood there above five minutes, anxiously keeping as much to the side of the road as possible, so as to place the other travellers betwixt them and Varney, when Lord Leicester’s master of the horse, followed by Lambourne, came riding fiercely down the hill, their horses’ flanks and the rowels of their spurs showing bloody tokens of the rate at which they travelled.  The appearance of the stationary group around the cottages, wearing their buckram suits in order to protect their masking dresses, having their light cart for transporting their scenery, and carrying various fantastic properties in their hands for the more easy conveyance, let the riders at once into the character and purpose of the company.

“You are revellers,” said Varney, “designing for Kenilworth?”

“RECTE QUIDEM, Domine SPECTATISSIME,” answered one of the party.

“And why the devil stand you here?” said Varney, “when your utmost dispatch will but bring you to Kenilworth in time?  The Queen dines at Warwick to-morrow, and you loiter here, ye knaves.”

“I very truth, sir,” said a little, diminutive urchin, wearing a vizard with a couple of sprouting horns of an elegant scarlet hue, having, moreover, a black serge jerkin drawn close to his body by lacing, garnished with red stockings, and shoes so shaped as to resemble cloven feet—­“in very truth, sir, and you are in the right on’t.  It is my father the Devil, who, being taken in labour, has delayed our present purpose, by increasing our company with an imp too many.”