“I once had a young brother; thou something favourest him,” was the only explanation he gave of the sudden fancy formed when Cuthbert spoke gratefully of his kindness.  “I am growing out of youth myself, but I like the companionship of youth when I can get it.  I would fain see more of thee, boy, an thou art thine own master, and can come and visit me at the place I may appoint.”

Cuthbert was pleased and flattered, and said he should be proud to come, but hoped it would not be at the tavern, as his uncle misliked such places of entertainment.

“It is an ill-smelling spot; I mislike it myself,” answered Catesby.  “Nay, we can do better than that now.  There is a house at Lambeth where I often frequent with my friends.  It is something lonely; but thou art a brave lad, and wilt not fear that.”

He turned and looked Cuthbert keenly over as he spoke, and heaved a short sigh.

“Thou art marvellous like the brother I lost,” he said.  “I would that I might have thee for my servant; but thou art too gently born for that, I trow.”

Cuthbert had well-nigh promised lifelong service on the spot, so peculiar was the influence and fascination exercised upon him by this man; but he remembered his uncle and his duty to him, and pulled himself up as he replied soberly: 

“I am poor enow—­poorer than many a servant—­having naught but what is given me by others.  But I have mine uncle’s will to do.  I may take no step without asking counsel of him.”

“Ay, verily; and this secret of our friendship thou must hide from him.  Thou knowest that I am of the forbidden faith, and my presence in London must be hid.  I may trust thee thus far with my secret?  Thou wilt not reveal my name to others?”

“Never, since thou hast told me not.”

“Good lad; I knew thou mightest be trusted.  And thou wilt come to see me as I shall ask?”

“If I can make shift to do so I will very willingly.”

“I shall remind thee of thy promise.  And now, farewell.  I have business in another quarter.  We shall meet again anon.”

Chapter 8:  Cuthbert And Cherry Go Visiting.

All this while Kate’s letter to her cousin Lord Culverhouse had lain stowed away in the safe leathern pocket of Cuthbert’s riding dress, into which her deft white hands had sewed it for safety, and he had made no attempt to deliver it to its owner, nor to see whether the young Viscount would have will or power to further his own success in life.

The reason for this delay was no lack of goodwill on the part of the youth, but was simply due to the fact that Lord Andover and his family were not in London at this season, but were in their family place in Hampshire, and not expected to reach London much before the Christmas season.

This much Cuthbert had discovered early on in his stay in town; for Kate had described to him the situation of her uncle’s house in the Strand, and he had made inquiry at the porter’s lodge the very first time he had passed by.  But hearing this, and not wishing to entrust the letter into any hands but those of Lord Culverhouse himself, he had gone away again, and the excitements of the new life had speedily driven the thought of Kate’s commission out of his mind.