Michael. Nobody but Mosbie.
Alice. That's well, Michael. Fetch in the tables,
And when thou has done, stand before the counting-house
door.
Michael. Why so?
Alice. Black Will is locked within to do the deed.
Michael. What? shall he die to-night?
Alice. Ay, Michael.
Michael. But shall not Susan know it?
Alice. Yes, for she'll be as secret as ourselves.
Michael. That's brave. I'll go fetch the tables.
Alice. But, Michael, hark to me a word or two:
When my husband is come in, lock the street door;
He shall be murdered or[68] the guests come in.