waving grass. When, last of
all save Landless and the Muggletonian, Trail and Luiz Sebastian
approached the door, Godwyn stopped them with a gesture.

"Stay a moment," he said. "I have a word to say to you. We may as well
be frank with you. I distrust you, of course. It is natural that I
should. And you distrust me as much. It is natural that you should. I
would do without the aid of you and the class you represent if I could,
but I cannot. You would do without my aid if you could, but you cannot.
Betray me, and whatever blood money you get, it will not be that freedom
which you want. We are obliged to work together, unequal yoke-fellows as
we are. Do I make myself understood?"

"To a marvel, Senor," said Luiz Sebastian.

"Damn my soul, but you're a sharp one!" said Trail.

Godwyn smiled. "That is enough, we understand one another. Good-night."

The two glided off in their turn, and Godwyn said to the Muggletonian,
"Friend Porringer, that mended sail must be bestowed in the large boat
before the hut against Haines' coming for it in the morning. Will you
take it to the boat for me? And if you will wait there this young man
shall join you shortly."

The Muggletonian nodded, piled the heap of dingy sail upon his head and
strode off. The mender of nets turned to Landless.

"Well," he said. "What do you think?"

"I think," said Landless, raising his voice, "that the gentleman in the
dark corner must be tired of standing."

There was a dead silence. Then a piece of shadow detached itself from
the other heavy shadows in the dark corner and came forward into the
torch light, where it resolved itself into a handsome figure of a man,
apparently in the prime of life, and wearing a riding cloak of green
cloth and a black riding mask. Not content with the concealment afforded
by the mask, he had pulled his beaver low over his eyes and with one
hand held the folds of the cloak about the lower part of his face. He
rested the other ungloved hand upon the table and stared fixedly at
Landless. "You have good eyes," he said at last, in a voice as muffled
as his countenance.

"It is a warm night," said Landless with a smile. "If Major Carrington
would drop that heavy cloak, he would find it more comfortable."

The man recoiled. "You know me!" he cried incredulously.

"I know the Carrington arms and motto. _Tenax et Fidelis_, is it not?
You should not wear your signet ring when you go a-plotting."

The Surveyor-General of the