rgot his purpose, forgot that Blake
waited for him at the Saracen's Head. And now Trenchard seemed to be
pulling himself together.

"I want to talk to you, Richard," said he, and although thick, there was
in his voice a certain impressive quality that had been absent hitherto.
"'S a rumour current." He lowered his voice to a whisper almost, and,
leaning across, took his companion by the arm. He hiccoughed noisily,
then began again. "'S a rumour current, sweetheart, that you're
disaffected."

Richard started, and his mind flapped and struggled like a trapped bird
to escape the meshes of the wine, to the end that he might convincingly
defend himself from such an imputation--so dangerously true.

"'S a lie!" he gasped.

Trenchard shut one eye and owlishly surveyed his companion with the
other. "They say," he added, "that you're for forsaking 'Duke's party."

"Villainous!" Richard protested. "I'll sli' throat of any man 't says
so." And draining the pewter at his elbow, he smashed it down on the
table to emphasize his seriousness.

Trenchard replenished it with the utmost promptness, then sat back in
his tall chair and pulled a moment at the fresh pipe with which he had
equipped himself.

"I think I espy,"' he quoted presently, "'virtue and valour crouched
in thine eye.' And yet.., and yet... if I had cause to think it
true, I'd... I'd run you through the vitals--jus' so," and he prodded
Richard's waistcoat with the point of his pipe-stem. His swarthy face
darkened, his eyes glittered fiercely. "Are ye sure ye're norrer foul
traitor?" he demanded suddenly. "Are y' sure, for if ye're not..."

He left the terrible menace unuttered, but it was none the less
understood. It penetrated the vinous fog that beset the brain of
Richard, and startled him.

"'Swear I'm not!" he cried. "'Swear mos' solemnly I'm not."

"Swear?" echoed Trenchard, and his scowl grew darker still. "Swear? A
man may swear and yet lie--'a man may smile and smile and be a villain.'
I'll have proof of your loyalty to us. I'll have proof, or as there's a
heaven above and a hell below, I'll rip you up."

His mien was terrific, and his voice the more threatening in that it was
not raised above a whisper.

Richard sat back appalled, afraid.

"Wha'... what proof'll satisfy you?" he asked.

Trenchard considered it, pulling at his pipe again. "Pledge me the
Duke," said he at length. "Ther's truth 'n wine. Pledge me the Duke and
confusion to His Majes