omestics do their office."

The mortified citizens and peasants fell back at the signal; while
Lambourne, who had his eye upon his superior's deportment, repelled
the services of those who offered to assist him, with yet more
discourtesy--"Stand back, Jack peasant, with a murrain to you, and let
these knave footmen do their duty!"

While they gave their nags to the attendants of the household, and
walked into the mansion with an air of superiority which long practice
and consciousness of birth rendered natural to Varney, and which
Lambourne endeavoured to imitate as well as he could, the poor
inhabitants of Woodstock whispered to each other, "Well-a-day! God save
us from all such misproud princoxes! An the master be like the men, why,
the fiend may take all, and yet have no more than his due."

"Silence, good neighbours!" said the bailiff, "keep tongue betwixt
teeth; we shall know more by-and-by. But never will a lord come to
Woodstock so welcome as bluff old King Harry! He would horsewhip a
fellow one day with his own royal hand, and then fling him an handful
of silver groats, with his own broad face on them, to 'noint the sore
withal."

"Ay, rest be with him!" echoed the auditors; "it will be long ere this
Lady Elizabeth horsewhip any of us."

"There is no saying," answered the bailiff. "Meanwhile, patience, good
neighbours, and let us comfort ourselves by thinking that we deserve
such notice at her Grace's hands."

Meanwhile, Varney, closely followed by his new dependant, made his way
to the hall, where men of more note and consequence than those left in
the courtyard awaited the appearance of the Earl, who as yet kept his
chamber. All paid court to Varney, with more or less deference, as
suited their own rank, or the urgency of the business which brought them
to his lord's levee. To the general question of, "When comes my lord
forth, Master Varney?" he gave brief answers, as, "See you not my boots?
I am but just returned from Oxford, and know nothing of it," and the
like, until the same query was put in a higher tone by a personage of
more importance. "I will inquire of the chamberlain, Sir Thomas Copely,"
was the reply. The chamberlain, distinguished by his silver key,
answered that the Earl only awaited Master Varney's return to come down,
but that he would first speak with him in his private chamber. Varney,
therefore, bowed to the company, and took leave, to enter his lord's
apartment.

There was a murm