“And now,” said the wily imp, sidling close up to Wayland’s horse, and cutting a gambol in the air which seemed to vindicate his title to relationship with the prince of that element, “I have told them who you are, do you in return tell me who I am?”

“Either Flibbertigibbet,” answered Wayland Smith, “or else an imp of the devil in good earnest.”

“Thou hast hit it,” answered Dickie Sludge.  “I am thine own Flibbertigibbet, man; and I have broken forth of bounds, along with my learned preceptor, as I told thee I would do, whether he would or not.  But what lady hast thou got with thee?  I saw thou wert at fault the first question was asked, and so I drew up for thy assistance.  But I must know all who she is, dear Wayland.”

“Thou shalt know fifty finer things, my dear ingle,” said Wayland; “but a truce to thine inquiries just now.  And since you are bound for Kenilworth, thither will I too, even for the love of thy sweet face and waggish company.”

“Thou shouldst have said my waggish face and sweet company,” said Dickie; “but how wilt thou travel with us—­I mean in what character?”

“E’en in that thou hast assigned me, to be sure—­as a juggler; thou knowest I am used to the craft,” answered Wayland.

“Ay, but the lady?” answered Flibbertigibbet.  “Credit me, I think she is one and thou art in a sea of troubles about her at this moment, as I can perceive by thy fidgeting.”

“Oh, she, man!—­she is a poor sister of mine,” said Wayland; “she can sing and play o’ the lute would win the fish out o’ the stream.”

“Let me hear her instantly,” said the boy, “I love the lute rarely; I love it of all things, though I never heard it.”

“Then how canst thou love it, Flibbertigibbet?” said Wayland.

“As knights love ladies in old tales,” answered Dickie—­“on hearsay.”

“Then love it on hearsay a little longer, till my sister is recovered from the fatigue of her journey,” said Wayland; muttering afterwards betwixt his teeth, “The devil take the imp’s curiosity!  I must keep fair weather with him, or we shall fare the worse.”

He then proceeded to state to Master Holiday his own talents as a juggler, with those of his sister as a musician.  Some proof of his dexterity was demanded, which he gave in such a style of excellence, that, delighted at obtaining such an accession to their party, they readily acquiesced in the apology which he offered when a display of his sister’s talents was required.  The new-comers were invited to partake of the refreshments with which the party were provided; and it was with some difficulty that Wayland Smith obtained an opportunity of being apart with his supposed sister during the meal, of which interval he availed himself to entreat her to forget for the present both her rank and her sorrows, and condescend, as the most probable chance of remaining concealed, to mix in the society of those with whom she was to travel.