There was one exception, however, and that was Jocelyn Mounchensey, who, so far from desiring to shun Sir Giles’s searching regards, courted them; and as the knight’s eagle eye ranged round the table and fell upon him, the young man (notwithstanding the efforts of his pacific neighbour in the furred cloak to restrain him) suddenly rose up, and throwing all the scorn and defiance he could muster into his countenance, returned Mompesson’s glance with one equally fierce and menacing.

A bitter smile curled Sir Giles’s lip at this reply to his challenge, and he regarded the young man fixedly, as if to grave his features upon his memory.  Perhaps they brought Mounchensey’s father to mind, for Sir Giles withdrew his gaze for a moment to reflect, and then looked again at Jocelyn with fresh curiosity.  If he had any doubts as to whom he beheld, they were removed by Sir Francis, who managed to hiccup forth—­

“’Tis he, Sir Giles—­’tis Jocelyn Mounchensey.”

“I thought as much,” Sir Giles muttered.  “A moment, young man,” he cried, waving his hand imperiously to his antagonist.  “Your turn will come presently.”

And without bestowing further notice on Jocelyn, who resisted all his neighbour’s entreaties to him to sit down, Sir Giles advanced towards the middle chamber, where he paused, and took off his cap, having hitherto remained covered.

In this position, he looked like a grand inquisitor attended by his familiars.

CHAPTER VIII.

Of Lupo Vulp, Captain Bludder, Clement Lanyere, and Sir Giles’s other Myrmidons.

Close behind Sir Giles, and a little in advance of the rest of the myrmidons, stood Lupo Vulp, the scrivener.

Lupo Vulp was the confidential adviser of our two extortioners, to whom they referred all their nefarious projects.  He it was who prepared their bonds and contracts, and placed out their ill-gotten gains at exorbitant usance.  Lupo Vulp was in all respects worthy of his employers, being just as wily and unscrupulous as they were, while, at the same time, he was rather better versed in legal tricks and stratagems, so that he could give them apt counsel in any emergency.  A countenance more replete with cunning and knavery than that of Lupo Vulp, it would be difficult to discover.  A sardonic smile hovered perpetually about his mouth, which was garnished with ranges of the keenest and whitest teeth.  His features were sharp; his eyes small, set wide apart, of a light gray colour, and with all the slyness of a fox lurking within their furtive glances.  Indeed, his general resemblance to that astute animal must have struck a physiognomist.  His head was shaped like that of a fox, and his hair and beard were of a reddish-tawny hue.  His manner was stealthy, cowering, suspicious, as if he feared a blow from every hand.  Yet Lupo Vulp could show his teeth and snap on occasions.  He was attired in a close-fitting doublet of russety-brown, round yellow hose, and long stockings of the same hue.  A short brown mantle and a fox-skin cap completed his costume.