"It would be folly to trust him, Bunting?" said Walter, turning round to
his attendant.

"Folly!--sheer madness--bother!"

"If you are the man I take you for," said Walter, "you once lifted your
voice against the murder, though you assisted in the robbery of a
traveller:--that traveller was myself. I will remember the mercy--I will
forget the outrage: and I will not believe that you have devised this
tale as a snare. Take my horse, Sir; I will trust you."

Houseman, for it was he, flung himself instantly from his saddle. "I
don't ask God to bless you: a blessing in my mouth would be worse than a
curse. But you will not repent this: you will not repent it!"

Houseman said these few words with a palpable emotion; and it was more
striking on account of the evident coarseness and hardened vulgarity of
his nature. In a moment more he had mounted Walter's horse, and turning
ere he sped on, inquired at what place at Knaresborough the horse should
be sent. Walter directed him to the principal inn; and Houseman, waving
his hand, and striking his spurs into the animal, wearied as it was, was
out of sight in a moment.

"Well, if ever I seed the like!" quoth the Corporal. "Lira, lira, la, la,
la! lira, lara, la, la, la!--augh!--whaugh!--bother!"

"So my good-nature does not please you, Bunting."

"Oh, Sir, it does not sinnify: we shall have our throats cut--that's all.