“Oh, Drake!” answered Rutland. “And if we fight bravely, he hath promised us, by way of guerdon, a jorum of liquor anon, at the sign of the ’Three Jolly Mariners.’” This announcement drew from his auditors a loud laugh, but the speaker himself, with a happy craft, looked quite grave, as though he considered the promised guerdon a matter of moment. While the laughter was yet in progress, the chamber-door, which was right behind Rutland, was again opened, and another cavalier entered. “All hail, lag-behind!” cried Rutland, glancing at the new comer. “Lag-behind in thy teeth, slanderous peer!” answered the person addressed. “I should have been here an hour agone, only that that gossiping wight, Squire Harrington, met me on the way; and who could ever break from him?” “None, none, I’ll warrant thee, good Cromwell!” said the Earl of Bedford. “But, prithee, tell us Master Harrington’s news. How many fair ladies hath he given over for lost?” “As thou art courteous, I will even tell thee,” answered Lord Cromwell. “He hath advised me, first, that fair Mistress Throckmorton hath a mortal passion for Sir Walter Raleigh”---- “Oh! oh!” cried Rutland. “Peace, brawler!” resumed Cromwell. “Second, that my Lady Nottingham, for some hidden reason, is affronted with my Lord Essex. Third, that my Lady Warwick hath given her lord”---- “What?” cried Rutland. Lord Cromwell was silent. “An heir, mayhap?” said the Earl of Essex. “A _hare?_ fie!” answered Cromwell. “A deer would mark nearer.” “Ha! ha! ha!” roared Bedford and Rutland. “Now, fie on thee, talebearer!” cried Essex, yet smiling. “We must be on our guard against thee. But who comes now?” The door opened as he spoke, and loud cries of “Sweet Hal Tracey! good Hal!” in which he himself joined, greeted the person who entered. Sir Henry Tracey--for such was the real designation of the new comer--answered this welcome in the same spirit, and saluted each of the company separately. That done, he turned to Essex, and, with a familiarity that, of its single self, denoted them to be on the most intimate relations, drew him aside. “Art ready to depart?” he inquired. “I wait only for thee, Hal,” answered Essex. “Then, in good sooth, we will even go round by Durham House, and call for Sir Walter Raleigh,” said Tracey. The Earl changed colour. “What mean’st thou?” he demanded. “Have not I told thee, over and over again, that Sir Walter likes me not?”