e nothing," said Lambourne, "to say yes; but, to speak
on the square, I must needs say no. If you want a hypocrite, you may
take Anthony Foster, who, from his childhood, had some sort of phantom
haunting him, which he called religion, though it was that sort of
godliness which always ended in being great gain. But I have no such
knack of it."

"Well," replied Varney, "if thou hast no hypocrisy, hast thou not a nag
here in the stable?"

"Ay, sir," said Lambourne, "that shall take hedge and ditch with my Lord
Duke's best hunters. Then I made a little mistake on Shooter's Hill,
and stopped an ancient grazier whose pouches were better lined than his
brain-pan, the bonny bay nag carried me sheer off in spite of the whole
hue and cry."

"Saddle him then instantly, and attend me," said Varney. "Leave thy
clothes and baggage under charge of mine host; and I will conduct thee
to a service, in which, if thou do not better thyself, the fault shall
not be fortune's, but thine own."

"Brave and hearty!" said Lambourne, "and I am mounted in an
instant.--Knave, hostler, saddle my nag without the loss of one second,
as thou dost value the safety of thy noddle.--Pretty Cicely, take half
this purse to comfort thee for my sudden departure."

"Gogsnouns!" replied the father, "Cicely wants no such token from thee.
Go away, Mike, and gather grace if thou canst, though I think thou goest
not to the land where it grows."

"Let me look at this Cicely of thine, mine host," said Varney; "I have
heard much talk of her beauty."

"It is a sunburnt beauty," said mine host, "well qualified to stand out
rain and wind, but little calculated to please such critical gallants as
yourself. She keeps her chamber, and cannot encounter the glance of such
sunny-day courtiers as my noble guest."

"Well, peace be with her, my good host," answered Varney; "our horses
are impatient--we bid you good day."

"Does my nephew go with you, so please you?" said Gosling.

"Ay, such is his purpose," answered Richard Varney.

"You are right--fully right," replied mine host--"you are, I say, fully
right, my kinsman. Thou hast got a gay horse; see thou light not unaware
upon a halter--or, if thou wilt needs be made immortal by means of
a rope, which thy purpose of following this gentleman renders not
unlikely, I charge thee to find a gallows as far from Cumnor as thou
conveniently mayest. And so I commend you to your saddle."

The master of the horse and his new