But he must have taken the order to ride night and day literally--in so short a time was he back again in Lud. Master Nathaniel was, of course, enchanted by his despatch, though he was unable to elicit from him any detailed answers to his eager questions about Ranulph. But it was everything to know that the boy was well and happy, and it was but natural that the fellow should be bashful and tongue-tied in the presence of his master. But the groom had not, as a matter of fact, come within twenty miles of the widow Gibberty's farm. In a road-side tavern he had fallen in with a red-haired youth, who had treated him to glass upon glass of an extremely intoxicating wine; and, in consequence, he had spent the night and a considerable portion of the following morning sound asleep on the floor of the tavern. When he awoke, he was horrified to discover how much time he had wasted. But his mind was set at rest on the innkeeper's giving him a letter from the red-haired youth, to say that he deeply regretted having been the indirect cause of delaying a messenger sent on pressing business by the High Seneschal (in his cup the groom had boasted of the importance of his errand), and had, in consequence, ventured to possess himself of the letter, which he guaranteed to deliver at the address on the wrapper as soon, or sooner, as the messenger could have done himself. The groom was greatly relieved. He had not been long in Master Nathaniel's service. It was after Yule-tide he had entered it. * * * * * So it was with a heart relieved from all fears for Ranulph and free to throb like a schoolboy's with the lust of adventure that Master Nathaniel met Master Ambrose on the night of the full moon at the splendid carved doors of the Guildhall. "I say, Ambrose," he whispered, "I feel as if we were lads again, and off to rob an orchard!" Master Ambrose snorted. He was determined, at all costs, to do his duty, but it annoyed him that his duty should be regarded in the light of a boyish escapade. The great doors creaked back on their hinges. Shutting them as quietly as they could, they tip-toed up the spiral staircase and along the corridor described by Dame Marigold: whenever a board creaked under their heavy steps, one inwardly cursing the other for daring to be so stout and unwieldy. All round them was darkness, except for the little trickles of light cast before them by their two lanthorns. A house with old furniture has no need of guests to be haunted. As we have seen, Master Nathaniel was very sensitive to the silent things--stars, houses, trees; and often in his pipe-room, after the candles had been lit, he would sit staring at the bookshelves, the chairs, his father's portrait--even at his red umbrella standing up in the corner, with as great a sense of awe as if he had been a star-gazer.