"
His eminence of Whitefriars on this burst out into a loud,
chuckling, impudent laugh, repeating the word, till his voice was
almost inarticulate,--"Niggle Green--Niggle Green--Niggle Green!--why,
my lord, you would be queered in the drinking of a penny pot of
Malmsey, if you cry before you are touched. Why, you have told me the
secret even now, had I not had a shrewd guess of it before. Why,
Master Nigel, since that is the word, I only called you my lord,
because we made you a peer of Alsatia last night, when the sack was
predominant.
--How you look now!--Ha! ha! ha!"
Nigel, indeed, conscious that he had unnecessarily betrayed himself,
replied hastily,--"he was much obliged to him for the honours
conferred, but did not propose to remain in the Sanctuary long enough
to enjoy them."
"Why, that may be as you will, an you will walk by wise counsel,"
answered the ducal porpoise; and, although Nigel remained standing, in
hopes to accelerate his guest's departure, he threw himself into one
of the old tapestry-backed easy-chairs, which cracked under his
weight, and began to call for old Trapbois.
The crone of all work appearing instead of her master, the Duke cursed
her for a careless jade, to let a strange gentleman, and a brave
guest, go without his morning's draught.
"I never take one, sir," said Glenvarloch.
"Time to begin--time to begin," answered the Duke.
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