The absurdity of suspecting any mischief from so public a rendezvous struck Inglesant as so great, that he was on the point of passing the house. He however alighted and inquired of one of the men whether any of his brother’s servants were about. The man, who knew him, replied that Mr. Eustace Inglesant had dined there with his lordship and the ladies, but was then, he believed, either in the garden or the fields with Lady Cardiff; he had brought no servants with him. Having got thus into conversation with the man, Inglesant ventured to inquire, with as careless a manner as he could assume, if Lady Isabella were there. Lady Isabella, the man said, had dined there, but after dinner had gone on a little farther in her coach, and attended by her servants, he believed to make some call in the neighbourhood. Then Inglesant knew that he had done right to come. "I have a message to Lady Ann Fentham," he said to the man, "but not being of the party, I would rather have sent it through my brother. As I suppose it is useless to attempt to find him, I shall be glad if you will tell me in which room the lady is, for I suppose his lordship is with her." "His lordship left orders that he was not to be disturbed," said the man insolently; "you had better try and find your brother." "Nevertheless, I must give her my message," said Inglesant quietly; "therefore, pray show me upstairs." "I don’t know the room," said the man still more rudely, "and you cannot go upstairs; his lordship has engaged the house." During the conversation the other men had gathered round, and it seemed to Inglesant that his lordship must have brought all his servants with him, for the house appeared full of them. None of the ordinary servants of the place were to be seen. Inglesant had no arms but his riding sword, and even if he had had, the use of them would have been absurd. "You know who I am," he said, looking the man steadily in the face, "one of the King’s gentlemen whom they call the Queen’s favourite page. I bring a message to Lady Fentham from her husband, the Secretary to the Prince’s council; do you think your lord will wish you to stop me?" As he spoke he made a step forward as though to enter, and the man, evidently in doubt, stepped slightly on one side, making it possible to enter the house. The rest took this movement to imply surrender, and one of the youngest, probably to gain favour, said, "The lady is in the room opposite the stairs, sir." Inglesant walked up the low oak staircase to the door, the men crowding together in silence at the bottom of the stairs. Inglesant tried the latch of the door, though he did not intend to go in without knocking. The door was fastened, and he knocked. For a moment there was silence, and then a voice said, angrily, "Who is there?" "A message from Sir Richard Fentham," said Inglesant. There was another and a longer pause, and then the same voice said,— "Is Sir Richard without?"