some grace and honour, to a learned scholar now in the Tower, one Adam
Warner, whom--"

"Now in the Tower! Adam Warner! And wanting a friend, I no more an
exile! That is my affair, not thine. Grace, honour,--ay, to his
heart's content. And his noble daughter? Mort Dieu! she shall choose
her bridegroom among the best of England. Is she, too, in the
fortress?"

"Yes," said Alwyn, briefly, not liking the last part of the earl's
speech.

The earl rang the bell on his table. "Send hither Sir Marmaduke
Nevile."

Alwyn saw his former rival enter, and heard the earl commission him to
accompany, with a fitting train, his own litter to the Tower. "And
you, Alwyn, go with your foster-brother, and pray Master Warner and
his daughter to be my guests for their own pleasure. Come hither, my
rude Northman,--come. I see I shall have many secret foes in this
city: wilt not thou at least be Warwick's open friend?"

Alwyn found it hard to resist the charm of the earl's manner and
voice; but, convinced in his own mind that the age was against
Warwick, and that commerce and London would be little advantaged by
the earl's rule, the trading spirit prevailed in his breast.

"Gracious my lord," he said, bending his knee in no servile homage,
"he who befriends my order, commands me."