back to her old perch, we were but lost men."

"No fear of that, my master," replied Anthony Foster; "she is in no mood
to stoop to his lure, for she yelled out on seeing him as if an adder
had stung her."

"That is good. Canst thou not get from thy daughter an inkling of what
passed between them, good Foster?"

"I tell you plain, Master Varney," said Foster, "my daughter shall not
enter our purposes or walk in our paths. They may suit me well enough,
who know how to repent of my misdoings; but I will not have my child's
soul committed to peril either for your pleasure or my lord's. I may
walk among snares and pitfalls myself, because I have discretion, but I
will not trust the poor lamb among them."

"Why, thou suspicious fool, I were as averse as thou art that thy
baby-faced girl should enter into my plans, or walk to hell at her
father's elbow. But indirectly thou mightst gain some intelligence of
her?"

"And so I did, Master Varney," answered Foster; "and she said her lady
called out upon the sickness of her father."

"Good!" replied Varney; "that is a hint worth catching, and I will work
upon it. But the country must be rid of this Tressilian. I would have
cumbered no man about the matter, for I hate him like strong poison--his
presence is hemlock to me--and this day I had been rid of him, but that
my foot slipped, when, to speak truth, had not thy comrade yonder come
to my aid, and held his hand, I should have known by this time whether