Besides the desire of inducing the Countess to proceed quietly on her
journey, Varney had it also in view to have an interview with Lambourne,
by whom he every moment expected to be joined, without the presence
of any witnesses. He knew the character of this man, prompt, bloody,
resolute, and greedy, and judged him the most fit agent he could employ
in his further designs. But ten miles of their journey had been measured
ere he heard the hasty clatter of horse's hoofs behind him, and was
overtaken by Michael Lambourne.
Fretted as he was with his absence, Varney received his profligate
servant with a rebuke of unusual bitterness. "Drunken villain," he said,
"thy idleness and debauched folly will stretch a halter ere it be long,
and, for me, I care not how soon!"
This style of objurgation Lambourne, who was elated to an unusual
degree, not only by an extraordinary cup of wine, but by the sort of
confidential interview he had just had with the Earl, and the secret
of which he had made himself master, did not receive with his wonted
humility. "He would take no insolence of language," he said, "from the
best knight that ever wore spurs. Lord Leicester had detained him on
some business of import, and that was enough for Varney, who was but a
servant like himself."
Varney was not a little surprised at his unusual tone of insolence; but
ascribing it to liquor, suffered it to pass as if unnoticed, and then
began to tamper with Lambourne touching his willingness to aid in
removing out of the Earl of Leicester's way an obstacle to a rise, which
would put it in his power to reward his trusty followers to their utmost
wish. And upon Michael Lambourne's seeming ignorant what was meant, he
plainly indicated "the litter-load, yonder," as the impediment which he
desired should be removed.
"Look you, Sir Richard, and so forth," said Michael, "some are wiser
than some, that is one thing, and some are worse than some, that's
another. I know my lord's mind on this matter better than thou, for he
hath trusted me fully in the matter. Here are his mandates, and his
last words were, Michael Lambourne--for his lordship speaks to me as a
gentleman of the sword, and useth not the words drunken villain, or such
like phrase, of those who know not how to bear new dignities--Varney,
says he, must pay the utmost respect to my Countess. I trust to you for
looking to it, Lambourne, says his lordship, and you must bring back my
signet from him peremptorily."