To have refused to obey any behest of his patron would have cost him his living, and knowing this beyond a doubt, he was forced to gird up his loins and gather together all the little courage he could muster to beard the lion in his den.
The first thing he beheld on entering the big hall was a beautiful tall youth wearing his own rich black hair, and dressed in scarlet coat for hunting.

He was playing with a dog, making it leap over his crop, and both laughing and swearing at its clumsiness.

He glanced at the chaplain with a laughing, brilliant eye, returning the poor man's humble bow with a slight nod as he plainly hearkened to what he said as he explained his errand.
"I come from my Lord Twemlow, who is your master's kinsman," the chaplain faltered; "I am bidden to see and speak to him if it be possible, and his lordship much desires that Sir Jeoffry will allow it to be so.

My Lord Twemlow--" The beautiful youth left his playing with the dog and came forward with all the air of the young master of the house.
"My Lord Twemlow sends you ?" he said.

"'Tis long since his lordship favoured us with messages.