"Can ye not stir his mind to any pastimes?" said Tressilian.

"He is clean and quite off his sports," said Will Badger; "hath neither

touched backgammon or shovel-board, nor looked on the big book of

harrowtry wi' Master Mumblazen. I let the clock run down, thinking the

missing the bell might somewhat move him--for you know, Master Edmund,

he was particular in counting time--but he never said a word on't, so

I may e'en set the old chime a-towling again. I made bold to tread on

Bungay's tail too, and you know what a round rating that would ha' cost

me once a-day; but he minded the poor tyke's whine no more than a madge

howlet whooping down the chimney--so the case is beyond me."

"Thou shalt tell me the rest within doors, Will. Meanwhile, let this

person be ta'en to the buttery, and used with respect. He is a man of

art."

"White art or black art, I would," said Will Badger, "that he had any

art which could help us.--Here, Tom Butler, look to the man of art;--and

see that he steals none of thy spoons, lad," he added in a whisper to

the butler, who showed himself at a low window, "I have known as honest

a faced fellow have art enough to do that."

He then ushered Tressilian into a low parlour, and went, at his desire,

to see in what state his master was, lest the sudden return of his

darling pupil and proposed son-in-law should affect him too strongly.

He returned immediately, and said that Sir Hugh was dozing in his

elbow-chair, but that Master Mumblazen would acquaint Master Tressilian

the instant he awaked.

"But it is chance if he knows you," said the huntsman, "for he has

forgotten the name of every hound in the pack. I thought, about a week

since, he had gotten a favourable turn. 'Saddle me old Sorrel,' said he

suddenly, after he had taken his usual night-draught out of the great

silver grace-cup, 'and take the hounds to Mount Hazelhurst to-morrow.'

Glad men were we all, and out we had him in the morning, and he rode to

cover as usual, with never a word spoken but that the wind was south,

and the scent would lie. But ere we had uncoupled'the hounds, he began

to stare round him, like a man that wakes suddenly out of a dream--turns

bridle, and walks back to Hall again, and leaves us to hunt at leisure

by ourselves, if we listed."




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