ceeded Lambourne; “it is the secret guerdon that I must live by.”
“Never fear,” said Varney; “thou shalt have clothes and spending money to ruffle it with the best of thy degree, for thou goest to a household where you have gold, as they say, by the eye.”
“That jumps all with my humour,” replied Michael Lambourne; “and it only remains that you tell me my master’s name.”
“My name is Master Richard Varney,” answered his companion.
“But I mean,” said Lambourne, “the name of the noble lord to whose service you are to prefer me.”
“How, knave, art thou too good to call me master?” said Varney, hastily; “I would have thee bold to others, but not saucy to me.”
“I crave your worship’s pardon,” said Lambourne; “but you seemed familiar with Anthony Foster, now I am familiar with Anthony myself.”
“Thou art a shrewd knave, I see,” replied Varney. “Mark me—I do indeed propose to introduce thee into a nobleman’s household; but it is upon my person thou wilt chiefly wait, and upon my countenance that thou wilt depend. I am his master of horse—Thou wilt soon know his name—it is one that shakes the council and wields the state.”
“By this light, a brave spell to conjure with,” said Lambourne, “if a man would discover hidden treasures!”
“Used with discretion, it may prove so,” replied ‘Varney; “but mark—if thou conjure with it at
