Johnson went away together.

"And, indeed, it is time you were abed, father, after all your travel,"
said Margaret. This had been in her mind all along.

Hans Cloterman sat waiting for Gerard, solemn and businesslike. The
minutes flew by, but excited no impatience in that perfect young man.
Johnson did him no more than justice when he laughed to scorn the idea
of his secretary leaving his post or neglecting his duty in pursuit of
sport or out of youthful hilarity and frivolity.

As Gerard was long in coming, the patient Hans--his employer's eye being
no longer on him improved the time by quaffing solemnly, silently, and
at short but accurately measured intervals, goblets of Corsican wine.
The wine was strong, so was Cloterman's head; and Gerard had been gone
a good hour ere the model secretary imbibed the notion that Creation
expected Cloterman to drink the health of all good fellows, and
nommement of the Duke of Burgundy there present. With this view he
filled bumper nine, and rose gingerly but solemnly and slowly. Having
reached his full height, he instantly rolled upon the grass, goblet
in hand, spilling the cold liquor on more than one ankle--whose owners
frisked--but not disturbing a muscle in his own long face, which, in
the total eclipse of reason, retained its gravity, primness, and
infallibility.

The seneschal led Gerard through several passages to the door of the
pavilion, where some young noblemen, embroidered and feathered, sat
sentinel, guarding the heir-apparent, and playing cards by the red light
of torches their servants held. A whisper from the seneschal, and one
of them rose reluctantly, stared at Gerard with haughty surprise, and