"No doubt. 'Tis a delicate matter."
He fell silent again.
"Did it not seem strange to you that such an assault as you saw last night should have been made upon an ordinary merchant?" he asked suddenly.
"I thought they meant robbery."
"Robbery! They never made a demand upon me. They meant murder."
"That is strange," I conceded.
"The truth is, lad," he went on, "I am at grips with a deadly enemy. 'Tis a curious story, concerned with high politics, great spoils of trade, intrigues of Church and State—mayhap the future of a continent. And as it happens Robert Juggins is at the hub of it.
"Do you think you would like to play a hand—on England's behalf and to checkmate the very foreign influences which sickened you of the Jacobite cause? There are reasons why I think you might be of aid to me. I need a strong arm combined with an agile mind, a mind used to French ways and the French tongue."
I would have answered, but he checked me.
"If you accept you must be prepared to fight your old friends, for the enemy I have spoken of is Jacobite at heart and works under cover for the return of the Pretender through the weakening of England and the paramount influence of France. Remember that before you commit yourself.