lness deserted him for a moment, and
that a look of annoyance passed over his face.

'Wait a bit!' he said; 'your name, I gather is Clarke, and your home is
Havant. Are you a kinsman of Joseph Clarke, the old Roundhead of that
town?'

'He is my father,' I answered.

'Hark to that, now!' he cried, with a throb of laughter; 'I have a
trick of falling on my feet. Look at this, lad! Look at this!' He drew
a packet of letters from his inside pocket, wrapped in a bit of tarred
cloth, and opening it he picked one out and placed it upon my knee.
'Read!' said he, pointing at it with his long thin finger.

It was inscribed in large plain characters, 'To Joseph Clarke, leather
merchant of Havant, by the hand of Master Decimus Saxon, part-owner of
the ship _Providence_, from Amsterdam to Portsmouth.' At each side it
was sealed with a massive red seal, and was additionally secured with a
broad band of silk.

'I have three-and-twenty of them to deliver in the neighbourhood,' he
remarked. 'That shows what folk think of Decimus Saxon. Three-and-twenty
lives and liberties are in my hands. Ah, lad, invoices and bills of
lading are not done up in that fashion. It is not a cargo of Flemish
skins that is coming for the old man. The skins have good English hearts
in them; ay, and English swords in their fists to strike out for freedom
and for conscience. I risk my life in carrying this letter to your
father; and you, his son, threaten to hand me over to the justices! For
shame! For shame! I blush for you!'

'I don't know what you are hinting at,' I answered. 'You must speak
plainer if I am to understand you.'

'Can we trust him?' he asked, jerking his head in the direction of
Reuben.

'As myself.'

'How very charming!' said he, with something between a smile and
a sneer. 'David and Jonathan--or, to be more classical and less
scriptural, Damon and Pythias--eh?' These papers, then, are from the
faithful abroad, the exiles in Holland, ye understand, who are thinking
of making a move and of coming over to see King James in his own country
with their swords strapped on their thighs. The letters are to those
from whom they expect sympathy, and notify when and where they will make
a landing. Now, my dear lad, you will perceive that instead of my being
in your power, you are so completely in mine that it needs but a word
from me to destroy your whole family. Decimus Saxon is staunch, though,
and that word shall never be spoken.'

'If a