wer for it, that in all that time he has never
taken a gold piece from any one but the King's enemies, nor I either:
and he vows that the King's commission which he still has, justifies
him in stripping them."
"Ay, so it does," replied Sir George Barkley, "and the King's
commission, too, justifies us in killing them. This gentleman only
makes nice distinctions when it suits him. However, we are taking
means to get all his people away from him. Byerly won't be such a
stickler, no doubt, and five or six of the others we can bribe."
"Ay, but will he not betray us," said Sir William Parkyns.
"I think not," said Sir George Barkley; and unwittingly he paid the
person he spoke of the highest compliment in his power, saying, "I
rather fancy the same sort of humour that prevents him from going on
in the business with us will keep him from betraying what he knows.
But we shall soon see that; and now having said all we have to say,
you had better go down, Fenwick, and see if he be come or not."
During the time that this conversation had been going on, there had
been various sounds of different descriptions in the house; and when
Sir John Fenwick rose and opened the door to seek the person last
spoken of, he was met face to face by Monsieur Plessis, and a
maid-servant, carrying an immense bowl of punch, at that time the
favourite beverage of a great part of the English nation.
"Was that the Colonel?" demanded Fenwick, as soon as he beheld
Plessis.
"Yes," replied the Frenchman; "but he is busy about his horses and
things, and said he would be up immediately."
"Has he got anybody with him?" demanded Sir John Fenwick in a low
voice, for Plessis had left the door partly open behind him.
"Only two," rejoined the other.
"Put down the punch, Plessis," said Sir George Barkley--"run down
and see if you cannot stop the others from coming up with him."
Before Plessis could do as he was bid, however, the door was flung
farther open, and our old acquaintance Green entered the room alone.
He was dressed as upon the first occasion of his meeting with Wilton
Brown, except that he had a sort of cloak cast over his other
garments, and a much heavier sword by his side. Plessis, who did not
seem very much to like the aspect of affairs, made his exit with all
speed, and closed the door; and Green, with a firm step and a
somewhat frowning brow, advanced to the table, saying, "I give you
good evening, gentlemen."
Sir John Fenwick, who was nearest to him, held out his hand as to