ving his hand repeatedly in answer
to the signals which were made by the Countess with her kerchief from
the windows of her apartment.

While his stately form vanished under the dark archway which led out of
the quadrangle, Varney muttered, "There goes fine policy--the servant
before the master!" then as he disappeared, seized the moment to speak a
word with Foster. "Thou look'st dark on me, Anthony," he said, "as if I
had deprived thee of a parting nod of my lord; but I have moved him to
leave thee a better remembrance for thy faithful service. See here!
a purse of as good gold as ever chinked under a miser's thumb and
fore-finger. Ay, count them, lad," said he, as Foster received the gold
with a grim smile, "and add to them the goodly remembrance he gave last
night to Janet."

"How's this? how's this?" said Anthony Foster hastily; "gave he gold to
Janet?"

"Ay, man, wherefore not?--does not her service to his fair lady require
guerdon?"

"She shall have none on't," said Foster; "she shall return it. I know
his dotage on one face is as brief as it is deep. His affections are as
fickle as the moon."

"Why, Foster, thou art mad--thou dost not hope for such good fortune
as that my lord should cast an eye on Janet? Who, in the fiend's name,
would listen to the thrush while the nightingale is singing?"

"Thrush or nightingale, all is one to the fowler; and, Master Varney,
you can sound the quail-pipe most daintily to wile wantons into his
nets. I desire no such devil's preferment for Janet as you have brought
many a poor maiden to. Dost thou laugh? I will keep one limb of my
family, at least, from Satan's clutches, that thou mayest rely on. She
shall restore the gold."

"Ay, or give it to thy keeping, Tony, which will serve as well,"
answered Varney; "but I have that to say which is more serious. Our lord
is returning to court in an evil humour for us."

"How meanest thou?" said Foster. "Is he tired already of his pretty
toy--his plaything yonder? He has purchased her at a monarch's ransom,
and I warrant me he rues his bargain."

"Not a whit, Tony," answered the master of the horse; "he dotes on her,
and will forsake the court for her. Then down go hopes, possessions, and
safety--church-lands are resumed, Tony, and well if the holders be not
called to account in Exchequer."

"That were ruin," said Foster, his brow darkening with apprehensions;
"and all this for a woman! Had it been for his soul's sake, it were