“I don’t care for thy jeers, Michael.”

“What!—­hast brought thy purpose to an anchor already?  ’Tis well.  I shall on to Raven Castle with all speed, if it were only to inform one Hildebrand Wentworth of this sudden qualm.  Likewise I may, peradventure, remember to tell him of another little qualm thou wast taken with, once upon a time, at the sight of a score of his fat beeves; a little bit of choice roguery played off upon him by honest Anthony of the tender conscience!  Look to it, comrade, he shall know of this before thou canst convey thy cowardly carcase out of his clutches.  An’ it be thou goest forward—­mum!—­backward!  Ha! have I caught thee, my pretty bird?”

At the conclusion of this speech, with the malice of a fiend urging on his hesitating victim to the commission of some loathed act of folly and of crime, the speaker lashed on his companion’s beast, and they were soon past the steepest part of the ascent, on their way to Raven Castle.  Its present occupier, whom, it appears, they had befriended beforetime, in the way of their several callings, had sent for them in haste, requiring their aid, it might seem, in some business relative to their profession.

For an hour or two they travelled on as fast as the nature of their track would permit.  Day was just brightening in the east, when, emerging from a more than usually intricate path, they pushed through a thick archway of boughs.  Suddenly a bare knoll presented itself, sloping towards a narrow rivulet; beyond, a dark and well-fortified mansion stood before them,—­here and there, a turret-shaped chamber, lifting its mural crown above the rest, rose clear and erect against a glowing sky, now rapidly displacing the grey hues of the morning.  The narrow battlements rose up, sharp and distinct, but black as their own grim recesses, in solemn contrast with the bright and rolling masses from behind, breaking into all the gorgeous tints that betoken a heavy and lurid atmosphere.

They crossed a narrow bridge, and the clattering of their horses’ hoofs were soon heard in the courtyard of the castle.

“So, masters, if it had not pleased your betters to have built hostels and roosting-places on the road, I might have been snug in my blanket some hours ago may be.”

The personage who thus accosted them was dressed in a plain leathern cap and doublet, with a pair of stout hose that would not have disgraced a burgher of the first magnitude; his short and frizzled beard was curiously twirled and pointed, we may suppose after the fashion of those regions; and his manner and appearance was that of some confidential menial belonging to the establishment.  His whole demeanour had in it an air of impertinent authority; his little sharp eyes twinkled in all the plenitude of power, and peered in the faces of the travellers as they alighted to render him an unwilling salutation.

“We have made the best of our road, Master Geoffery, since we left our quarters in Netherdale.  But, in troth, it’s a weary way, and a drouthy one into the bargain:  I have not wet even the tip of this poor beast’s nose since we started.”