"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."
"This sounds like practice upon me, sir," replied Varney; "and if it
proves so, by my soul you shall repent it!"
"Sir, the best hound will be sometimes at fault," answered Lambourne;
"how should it serve me that this fellow should have thus evanished?
You may ask mine host, Giles Gosling--ask the tapster and hostler--ask
Cicely, and the whole household, how I kept eyes on Tressilian while
he was on foot. On my soul, I could not be expected to watch him like a
sick nurse, when I had seen him fairly a-bed in his chamber. That will
be allowed me, surely."
Varney did, in fact, make some inquiry among the household, which
confirmed the truth of Lambourne's statement. Tressilian, it was
unanimously agreed, had departed suddenly and unexpectedly, betwixt
night and morning.
"But I will wrong no one," said mine host; "he left on the table in
his lodging the full value of his reckoning, with some allowance to the
servants of the house, which was the less necessary that he saddled his
own gelding, as it seems, without the hostler's assistance."
Thus satisfied of the rectitude of Lambourne's conduct, Varney began to
talk to him upon his future prospects, and the mode in which he meant
to bestow himself, intimating that he understood from Foster he was not
disinclined to enter into the household of a nobleman.
"Have you," said he, "ever been at court?"
"No," replied Lambourne; "but ever since I was ten years old, I have
dreamt once a week that I was there, and made my fortune."
"It may be your own fault if your dream comes not true," said Varney.
"Are you needy?"
"Um!" replied Lambourne; "I love pleasure."
"That is a sufficient answer, and an honest one," said Varney. "Know
you aught of the requisites expected from the retainer of a rising
courtier?"
"I have imagined them to myself, sir," answered Lambourne; "as, for
example, a quick eye, a close mouth, a ready and bold hand, a sharp wit,
and a blunt conscience."