Feeling that, in courtesy, he could not refuse, Sir Harry West accompanied the worthy justice to another part of the house, while the servants and Ida Mara were taken to the buttery, and treated with true old English hospitality. In about half an hour, however, the whole party were once more on horseback, and riding slowly away towards Andover. CHAPTER X. We must now accompany George Brooke on his way, not, indeed, stopping to trace all his proceedings, but merely stating that the time thrown away in consequence of his meeting with Ida Mara, and the loss of his horse's shoe, was not altogether less than five hours. At the end of that period, however, he once more found himself riding rapidly on towards London, and, as is usual in such cases, cursing the folly which induced him to forget great and important objects in pursuit of petty gratifications. By six o'clock his horse was quite knocked up; and leaving it at an inn to be sent after him, he procured another, with which, at the end of about four hours more, he approached the metropolis. His thoughts had been in a wild and hurried state, and he had more than once asked himself, "With whom shall I take counsel? If Clarke be come back from Brussels," he continued, in the same train of thought, "he would be the man, but of that I am not sure.--Cobham is such a fool, I cannot trust to him; and Raleigh's coldness in the business has shaken his constancy. It must be with Markham; he is bold and decided, though a slippery knave, I fear.--We can go on to Cobham House afterwards. Ho boy!" he continued, speaking to the post-boy who rode with him to take back the horse, "which is the shortest cut to the village of Chelsea?" "Down to the right, sir," replied the man; "the first turning, and then the second to the left." George Brooke accordingly rode on, and in a few minutes caught a glimpse of the Thames, shining in the rising moon. "Ay, now I know my way," he said, and rode straight on to the gates of an old brick house, with a garden and orchard, looking towards the river on one side, and on the other towards the road. Ringing the great bell at the door, with his usual impetuous haste, George Brooke speedily brought a porter to answer his summons, and asked eagerly if Sir Griffin Markham were within. "He is somewhat sick," replied the man, "and cannot see any one." "Nay, were he sick to the death, I must see him," cried George Brooke; "methinks, however, Master Porter, that there is somewhat loud talking in the place for a sick man's house. Go, tell Sir Griffin that Master George Brooke wishes to see him, and must too, immediately."