“Drawer!” he called, “bring me coffee and brandy, and, damme! be in haste.”

Young Tantillion nudged his nearest companion with his elbow.

“Jack Oxon,” he said.  “Where rides the fellow at this time of night?”

“Eh, Jack!” he said, aloud, “art on a journey already, after shining at the Court ball?”

Sir John started, and seeing who spoke, answered with an ugly laugh.

“Ay,” said he, “I ride to the country in hot haste.  I go to Wickben in Essex, to bring back a thing I once left there.”

“’Twas a queer place to leave valuables,” said Tom—­“a village of tumble-down thatched cottages.  Was’t a love-token or a purse of gold?”

Sir John gave his knee a sudden joyous slap, and laughed aloud.

“’Twas a little thing,” he replied, “but ’twill bring back fortune—­if I find it—­and help me to pay back old scores, which is a thing I like better.”  And his grin was so ugly that Tom and his companions glanced aside at each other, believing that he was full of liquor already, and ready to pick a quarrel if they continued their talk.  This they were not particularly inclined to, however, and began a game of cards, leaving him to himself to finish his drink.  This he did, quickly tossing down both brandy and coffee the instant they were brought to him, and then striding swaggering from the room and mounting his horse, which waited in the street, and riding clattering off over the stones at a fierce pace.

“Does he ride for a wager?” said Will Lovell, dealing the cards.

“He rides for some ill purpose, I swear,” said Tom Tantillion.  “Jack Oxon never went in haste towards an honest deed; but to play some devil’s trick ’tis but nature to him to go full speed.”

But what he rode for they never heard, neither they nor anyone else who told the story, though ’twas sure that if he went to Wickben he came back to town for a few hours at least, for there were those who saw him the next day, but only one there was who spoke with him, and that one my Lady Dunstanwolde herself.

Her ladyship rode out in the morning hoping, ’twas said, that the fresh air and exercise would restore her strength and spirits.  She rode without attendant, and towards the country, and in the high road Sir John Oxon joined her.

“I did not know he had been out of town,” she said, when the mystery was discussed.  “He did not say so.  He returned to Dunstanwolde House with me, and we had talk together.  He had scarce left me when I remembered that I had forgot to say a thing to him I had wished to say.  So I sent Jenfry forth quickly to call him back.  He had scarce had time to turn the street’s corner, but Jenfry returned, saying he was not within sight.”

“Whereupon you sent a note to his lodgings, was’t not so?” asked Sir Christopher.

“Yes,” answered her ladyship, “but he had not returned there.”

“Nor ever did,” said Sir Christopher, whenever the mystery was referred to afterwards; “nor ever did, and where he went to from that hour only the devil knows, for no man or woman that one has heard of has ever clapt eyes on him since.”