“In that case, I will dispatch thee down to Joceline’s hut, to negotiate the re-entrance of Sir Henry Lee and his family into their old apartments, where, my interest with the General being joined with the indifferent repute of the place itself, I think they have little chance of being disturbed either by the present, or by any new Commissioners.” “But how are they to defend themselves against the fiends, my gallant Colonel?” said Wildrake. “Methinks had I an interest in yonder pretty girl, such as thou dost boast, I should be loth to expose her to the terrors of a residence at Woodstock, where these devils—I beg their pardon, for I suppose they hear every word we say—these merry goblins—make such gay work from twilight till morning.” “My dear Wildrake,” said the Colonel, “I, as well as you, believe it possible that our speech may be overheard; but I care not, and will speak my mind plainly. I trust Sir Henry and Alice are not engaged in this silly plot; I cannot reconcile it with the pride of the one, the modesty of the other, nor the good sense of both, that any motive could engage them in so strange a conjunction. But the fiends are all of your own political persuasion, Wildrake, all true-blue cavaliers; and I am convinced, that Sir Henry and Alice Lee, though they be unconnected with them, have not the slightest cause to be apprehensive of their goblin machinations. Besides, Sir Henry and Joceline must know every corner about the place: it will be far more difficult to play off any ghostly machinery upon him than upon strangers. But let us to our toilet, and when water and brush have done their work, we will enquire—what is next to be done.” “Nay, that wretched puritan’s garb of mine is hardly worth brushing,” said Wildrake; “and but for this hundred-weight of rusty iron, with which thou hast bedizened me, I look more like a bankrupt Quaker than anything else. But I’ll make _you_ as spruce as ever was a canting rogue of your party.” So saying, and humming at the same time the cavalier tune,— “Though for a time we see Whitehall With cobwebs hung around the wall, Yet Heaven shall make amends for all. When the King shall enjoy his own again.”— “Thou forgettest who are without,” said Colonel Everard.