Nicholas looked down at my lady; a gentler light was in his eyes. "Kate, she is a little lady all fire and spirit, with great brown eyes, and two dimples set on either side the sweetest mouth in Christendom." "But a Spaniard!" my lady protested. "Trust me to amend that," he said lightly. She liked the savour of romance, smiled, and sighed. My lord brought her down to earth again very speedily. "What boots it to ask of what like she may be? Ye will never see her. Nor will ye see Nick again if he goes on this mad quest. That is certain." Nicholas laughed out. "Marry, only one thing is certain, Gerard, and that is that ye will never be rid of me. I always come back to be your bane." "Lad, you know well I've no wish to be rid of you. Can I not prevail with you? For the sake of the house?" Nicholas held up his hand, and showed the lady's thumb-ring upon his little finger. "See my lady's token. I swore on it to reach to her. Are you answered?" My lord made a gesture of despair. "I see there is once more to be no ho with you. When do you look to go?" "Some three months hence," Nicholas answered. "The _Venture_ lies in dock, and will take some time refitting. I must to London within the week to pay my duty to the Queen. I have appointed young Dangerfield to meet me there. I might go thence into Worcestershire to see how Adela does. You will see me home again in a month, never doubt it." He left Alreston two days later upon the Barbary horse from my lord's stables, with Joshua Dimmock riding sedately behind him, and travelled 'cross country at his leisure until the post road was reached. "Never at quiet!" Joshua remarked to the heavens. "Court drowning at sea, court foundering in mire upon land: it's all one." "Peace, froth!" Beauvallet said, and made his horse curvet on the green. They came within sight of the city late one evening as the gates were closing. "What, the good-year!" Joshua cried, roused to wrath. "Shut Beauvallet out, is it? Now see how I will use these churlish Londoners!" "No swashbuckling here, crack-hemp; we rest at the Tabard." The great inn showed welcoming lights, and placed her best at Beauvallet's disposal. He stayed only one night, and was gone in the morning over London Bridge to the Devil Tavern in East Chepe, where he had reason to think he might find Sir Francis Drake. The host, who knew him well, accorded him a deferential welcome, and bustled about to prepare a chamber for his honour. Sir Francis lay at the inn indeed, but was gone forth that morning, mine host knew not where. But there was a dinner bespoke for eleven o'clock, and Master Hawkins would be there--nay, not Master John, but his brother--and Sir William Cavendish, so mine host believed, with some others. "Lay a place for me, Wadloe," Sir Nicholas said, and went out in search of Sir Francis, or any other friend who might chance to be abroad.