He turned his horse, struck him with the spurs, and rode off under the archway in pursuit of his lord.

“Would thy occupation were ended, or thy neck broken, damned pander!” said Anthony Foster.  “But I must follow his beck, for his interest and mine are the same, and he can wind the proud Earl to his will.  Janet shall give me those pieces though; they shall be laid out in some way for God’s service, and I will keep them separate in my strong chest, till I can fall upon a fitting employment for them.  No contagious vapour shall breathe on Janet—­she shall remain pure as a blessed spirit, were it but to pray God for her father.  I need her prayers, for I am at a hard pass.  Strange reports are abroad concerning my way of life.  The congregation look cold on me, and when Master Holdforth spoke of hypocrites being like a whited sepulchre, which within was full of dead men’s bones, methought he looked full at me.  The Romish was a comfortable faith; Lambourne spoke true in that.  A man had but to follow his thrift by such ways as offered—­tell his beads, hear a mass, confess, and be absolved.  These Puritans tread a harder and a rougher path; but I will try—­I will read my Bible for an hour ere I again open mine iron chest.”

Varney, meantime, spurred after his lord, whom he found waiting for him at the postern gate of the park.

“You waste time, Varney,” said the Earl, “and it presses.  I must be at Woodstock before I can safely lay aside my disguise, and till then I journey in some peril.”

“It is but two hours’ brisk riding, my lord,” said Varney.  “For me, I only stopped to enforce your commands of care and secrecy on yonder Foster, and to inquire about the abode of the gentleman whom I would promote to your lordship’s train, in the room of Trevors.”

“Is he fit for the meridian of the antechamber, think’st thou?” said the Earl.

“He promises well, my lord,” replied Varney; “but if your lordship were pleased to ride on, I could go back to Cumnor, and bring him to your lordship at Woodstock before you are out of bed.”

“Why, I am asleep there, thou knowest, at this moment,” said the Earl; “and I pray you not to spare horse-flesh, that you may be with me at my levee.”

So saying, he gave his horse the spur, and proceeded on his journey, while Varney rode back to Cumnor by the public road, avoiding the park.  The latter alighted at the door of the bonny Black Bear, and desired to speak with Master Michael Lambourne, That respectable character was not long of appearing before his new patron, but it was with downcast looks.

“Thou hast lost the scent,” said Varney, “of thy comrade Tressilian.  I know it by thy bang-dog visage.  Is this thy alacrity, thou impudent knave?”

“Cogswounds!” said Lambourne, “there was never a trail so finely hunted.  I saw him to earth at mine uncle’s here—­stuck to him like bees’-wax—­saw him at supper—­watched him to his chamber, and, presto! he is gone next morning, the very hostler knows not where.”