“Concern not yourself about Cicely, kinsman,” said Giles Gosling, “but e’en let her go her way, a’ God’s name; for although your mother were her father’s sister, yet that shall not make you and her cater-cousins.”

“Why, uncle,” replied Lambourne, “think’st thou I am an infidel, and would harm those of mine own house?”

“It is for no harm that I speak, Mike,” answered his uncle, “but a simple humour of precaution which I have.  True, thou art as well gilded as a snake when he casts his old slough in the spring time; but for all that, thou creepest not into my Eden.  I will look after mine Eve, Mike, and so content thee.—­But how brave thou be’st, lad!  To look on thee now, and compare thee with Master Tressilian here, in his sad-coloured riding-suit, who would not say that thou wert the real gentleman and he the tapster’s boy?”

“Troth, uncle,” replied Lambourne, “no one would say so but one of your country-breeding, that knows no better.  I will say, and I care not who hears me, there is something about the real gentry that few men come up to that are not born and bred to the mystery.  I wot not where the trick lies; but although I can enter an ordinary with as much audacity, rebuke the waiters and drawers as loudly, drink as deep a health, swear as round an oath, and fling my gold as freely about as any of the jingling spurs and white feathers that are around me, yet, hang me if I can ever catch the true grace of it, though I have practised an hundred times.  The man of the house sets me lowest at the board, and carves to me the last; and the drawer says, ‘Coming, friend,’ without any more reverence or regardful addition.  But, hang it, let it pass; care killed a cat.  I have gentry enough to pass the trick on Tony Fire-the-Faggot, and that will do for the matter in hand.”

“You hold your purpose, then, of visiting your old acquaintance?” said Tressilian to the adventurer.

“Ay, sir,” replied Lambourne; “when stakes are made, the game must be played; that is gamester’s law, all over the world.  You, sir, unless my memory fails me (for I did steep it somewhat too deeply in the sack-butt), took some share in my hazard?”

“I propose to accompany you in your adventure,” said Tressilian, “if you will do me so much grace as to permit me; and I have staked my share of the forfeit in the hands of our worthy host.”

“That he hath,” answered Giles Gosling, “in as fair Harry-nobles as ever were melted into sack by a good fellow.  So, luck to your enterprise, since you will needs venture on Tony Foster; but, by my credit, you had better take another draught before you depart, for your welcome at the Hall yonder will be somewhat of the driest.  And if you do get into peril, beware of taking to cold steel; but send for me, Giles Gosling, the head-borough, and I may be able to make something out of Tony yet, for as proud as he is.”

The nephew dutifully obeyed his uncle’s hint, by taking a second powerful pull at the tankard, observing that his wit never served him so well as when he had washed his temples with a deep morning’s draught; and they set forth together for the habitation of Anthony Foster.