While he was speaking he had rung the bell, and his own two servants with Wilton’s rode up to take the horses.  Almost at the same moment a porter threw open the gates, and to his companion’s surprise, Lord Sherbrooke asked for the Duke of Gaveston.  The servant answered that the Duke was out, but that his young lady was at home; and thus the hero of our tale found himself suddenly, and even most unwillingly, brought to the dwelling of one whose society he certainly liked better than that of any one else on earth.

Lord Sherbrooke looked in his face with a glance of malicious pleasure; and then, as nothing on earth ever stopped him in anything that he chose to do or say, he burst forth into a gay peal of laughter at the surprise which he saw depicted on the countenance of his friend.

“Take the horses,” he continued, turning to his own servants—­“take the horses round to the Green Dragon, in the lane behind the house, wet their noses, and give them a book to read till we come to them.  Come, Wilton, come!  It is quite fitting,” he said, in a lower tone, “that in execution of my plan I should establish a character for insanity in the house.  Now that fat porter with the mulberry nose will go and report to the kitchen-maid that I order my horses a book to read, and they will decide that I am mad in a minute.  The news will fly from kitchen-maid to cook, and from cook to housekeeper, and from housekeeper to lady’s maid, and from lady’s maid to lady.  There will be nothing else talked of in the house but my madness; and when they come to add madness to badness they will surely give me up, if they haven’t a mind to add sadness to madness likewise.”

While he spoke, they were following a sort of groom of the chambers, who, after looking into one of the rooms on the ground-floor, turned to Lord Sherbrooke, saying, in a sweet tone,

“Lady Laura is walking in the gardens I see, my lord.  I will show your lordship the way.”

“So you have the honour of knowing who my lordship is, Mr. Montgomery Styles?” said Lord Sherbrooke, looking him full in the face.

“I beg your lordship’s pardon,” said the man, in the same mincing manner—­“my name is not Montgomery Styles—­my name is Josiah Perkins.”

“Well, Jos.  Perkins,” said the young nobleman, “I PRAE SEQUOR, which means, get on as fast as you can, Mr. Perkins, and I’ll come after; though you may tell me as you go, how it was you discovered my lordliness.”

“Oh! by your look, my lord:  I should have discovered it at once,” replied the groom of the chambers; “but his grace told me that your lordship was likely to call.”