The master of the horse and his new retainer mounted accordingly, leaving the landlord to conclude his ill-omened farewell, to himself and at leisure; and set off together at a rapid pace, which prevented conversation until the ascent of a steep sandy hill permitted them to resume it.

“You are contented, then,” said Varney to his companion, “to take court service?”

“Ay, worshipful sir, if you like my terms as well as I like yours.”

“And what are your terms?” demanded Varney.

“If I am to have a quick eye for my patron’s interest, he must have a dull one towards my faults,” said Lambourne.

“Ay,” said Varney, “so they lie not so grossly open that he must needs break his shins over them.”

“Agreed,” said Lambourne.  “Next, if I run down game, I must have the picking of the bones.”

“That is but reason,” replied Varney, “so that your betters are served before you.”

“Good,” said Lambourne; “and it only remains to be said, that if the law and I quarrel, my patron must bear me out, for that is a chief point.”

“Reason again,” said Varney, “if the quarrel hath happened in your master’s service.”

“For the wage and so forth, I say nothing,” proceeded Lambourne; “it is the secret guerdon that I must live by.”

“Never fear,” said Varney; “thou shalt have clothes and spending money to ruffle it with the best of thy degree, for thou goest to a household where you have gold, as they say, by the eye.”

“That jumps all with my humour,” replied Michael Lambourne; “and it only remains that you tell me my master’s name.”

“My name is Master Richard Varney,” answered his companion.

“But I mean,” said Lambourne, “the name of the noble lord to whose service you are to prefer me.”

“How, knave, art thou too good to call me master?” said Varney hastily; “I would have thee bold to others, but not saucy to me.”

“I crave your worship’s pardon,” said Lambourne, “but you seemed familiar with Anthony Foster; now I am familiar with Anthony myself.”

“Thou art a shrewd knave, I see,” replied Varney.  “Mark me—­I do indeed propose to introduce thee into a nobleman’s household; but it is upon my person thou wilt chiefly wait, and upon my countenance that thou wilt depend.  I am his master of horse.  Thou wilt soon know his name—­it is one that shakes the council and wields the state.”

“By this light, a brave spell to conjure with,” said Lambourne, “if a man would discover hidden treasures!”

“Used with discretion, it may prove so,” replied Varney; “but mark—­if thou conjure with it at thine own hand, it may raise a devil who will tear thee in fragments.”

“Enough said,” replied Lambourne; “I will not exceed my limits.”