"True--very true," answered Wayland, for he it was; "an excellent
device, but methinks something dangerous--for, say Foster should
return?"
"Very possible indeed," replied the host.
"Or say," continued Wayland, "the lady should render me cold thanks for
my exertions?"
"As is not unlikely," replied Giles Gosling. "I marvel Master Tressilian
will take such heed of her that cares not for him."
"In either case I were foully sped," said Wayland, "and therefore I do
not, on the whole, much relish your device."
"Nay, but take me with you, good master serving-man," replied mine host.
"This is your master's business, and not mine, you best know the risk
to be encountered, or how far you are willing to brave it. But that
which you will not yourself hazard, you cannot expect others to risk."
"Hold, hold," said Wayland; "tell me but one thing--goes yonder old man
up to Cumnor?"
"Surely, I think so?" said the landlord; "their servant said he was to
take their baggage thither. But the ale-tap has been as potent for him
as the sack-spigot has been for Michael."
"It is enough," said Wayland, assuming an air of resolution. "I will
thwart that old villain's projects; my affright at his baleful aspect
begins to abate, and my hatred to arise. Help me on with my pack, good
mine host.--And look to thyself, old Albumazar; there is a malignant
influence in thy horoscope, and it gleams from the constellation Ursa
Major."
So saying, he assumed his burden, and, guided by the landlord through
the postern gate of the Black Bear, took the most private way from
thence up to Cumnor Place.