iffinch, thou art turned micher as well as
padder--Canst both rob a man and kidnap him!"

"Micher and padder--what terms be these?" said Chiffinch. "Methinks
these are sounds to lug out upon. You will have me angry to the degree
of falling foul--robber and kidnapper!"

"You mistake verb for noun-substantive," replied his lordship; "I said
_rob_ and _kidnap_--a man may do either once and away without being
professional."

"But not without spilling a little foolish noble blood, or some such
red-coloured gear," said Chiffinch, starting up.

"Oh yes," said his lordship; "all this may be without these dire
consequences, and as you will find to-morrow, when you return to
England; for at present you are in the land of Champagne, Chiffie; and
that you may continue so, I drink thee this parting cup to line thy
nightcap."

"I do not refuse your pledge," said Chiffinch; "but I drink to thee
in dudgeon and in hostility--It is cup of wrath, and a gage of battle.
To-morrow, by dawn, I will have thee at point of fox, wert thou the last
of the Savilles.--What the devil! think you I fear you because you are a
lord?"

"Not so, Chiffinch," answered his companion. "I know thou fearest
nothing but beans and bacon, washed down with bumpkin-like beer.--Adieu,
sweet Chiffinch--to bed--Chiffinch--to bed."

So saying, he lifted a candle, and left the apartment. And Chiffinch,
whom the last draught had nearly overpowered, had just strength enough
left to do the same, muttering, as he staggered out, "Yes, he shall
answer it.--Dawn of day? D--n me--It is come already--Yonder's the
dawn--No, d--n me, 'tis the fire glancing on the cursed red lattice--It
is the smell of the brandy in this cursed room--It could not be the
wine--Well, old Rowley shall send me no more errands to the country
again--Steady, steady."

So saying, he reeled out of the apartment, leaving Peveril to think over
the extraordinary conversation he had just heard.

The name of Chiffinch, the well-known minister of Charles's pleasures,
was nearly allied to the part which he seemed about to play in the
present intrigue; but that Christian, whom he had always supposed
a Puritan as strict as his brother-in-law, Bridgenorth, should be
associated with him in a plot so infamous, seemed alike unnatural and
monstrous. The near relationship might blind Bridgenorth, and warrant
him in confiding his daughter to such a man's charge; but what a wretch
he must be, that could coolly med