"He is seldom off his guard," he remarked; "but I do not fear the responsibility; and, perhaps, it is the best plan. Government will carry us through, even if we do stretch its authority a little in such a case." With this observation, the meeting broke up; and the little knot which had remained separated. CHAPTER XI. The events which I have narrated in the last chapter occupied nearly two hours, although, in their recapitulation, they fill so small a space. It was thus four o'clock, or somewhat more, before Sir John Newark reached the door of his inn, impatient to return as soon as possible to the Manor House. As we have seen, many of the party which he had now espoused followed him away from the place of meeting. Some mounted their horses and rode into the country; some strayed to the right or left, as soon as they were in the street; some went one way, some another, and but few accompanied Sir John Newark, even a short distance. Sir John was not loved or trusted by any one. All readily availed themselves of his help; all admired the skill and dexterity with which he took advantage of an enemy's mistakes, and sometimes of a friend's; but they did not altogether feel safe in his private society. There was one garrulous old knight, however--a Sir James Mount--who had no fears of any kind. Wrapped up in his talkative egotism, he thought little of the character and actions of his associates, chattered away gaily to any one who came near him, sometimes very sillily, sometimes well enough, and was ever ready with a smart repartee, at which he himself laughed, to lead the chorus right; and, being full of anecdote and a great gossip-monger, was tolerated and even courted by most of the gentlemen round, though he sadly wearied them till they had contrived to make him dead drunk. This worthy baronet adhered to the side of Sir John Newark all the way to the inn, at which, it would seem, he himself also had put up. "You posed them, Sir John--you posed them," he said, as they issued from the door. "That smart Mr. Seely got a rap--a rap--a rap, I think. Puppy! his knuckles will ache. It is very droll that I am not good at public speaking--at public speaking--at public speaking, for I am fluent enough--fluent enough--fluent enough, in conversation, I think." Sir John Newark made no reply; nor, indeed, was any necessary. Sir James Mount paused for a moment to take breath--for he had been walking fast, with a peculiar dancing sort of step; but it was not long before he began again, saying; "Better times coming, Sir John, better times coming, I think; and the king shall have his own again. I dare say, now, you have got some news from over the water--over the water--over the water." Sir John Newark replied this time; for a good number of people were in the street; and Sir James's conversation was getting somewhat dangerous.