"Nonsense," stormed de Veulle. "Why should we fear his trumpery tales? Who are we to be denounced by him?"
"Because I know somewhat of Governor Burnet," replied Murray good-humoredly. "Nay, chevalier, I dislike to yield my point as much as any man; but Master Ormerod hath stopped us. We must have a truce."
But he reckoned without Marjory. The lady of the green cloak stood forward in the center of the cabin, passionate indignation shaking her whole figure.
"Oh, why do you talk like this?" she exclaimed. "Are we criminals that we must bargain with a criminal? It is as if we were embarked upon an enterprise as vile as his life of spying and intrigue!"
I had not made any headway in regaining her good opinion, 'twas evident, and that must be the excuse for my barbed retort.
"You show unwonted sensibility, my lady," I said. "Sure, no men with good consciences would stoop to bargain with such as I."
"I fear me, Marjory," said Murray gently, "that you have no appreciation of the tangled path which must be trod by those who concern themselves with affairs of state. The good and the bad are strangely intermingled. Sometimes we must consort with those we despise in order to gain a good cause. Sometimes we must use tools which irk us to fashion a policy to a righteous end. Sometimes we must stoop to tricks and plays which soil and shame.
"It can not be otherwise. And after all, what does it matter that you and I have cause to regret, if we may see the attainment of our goal? Shall we regret the payment of a bitter price? 'Twould be parsimonious, I say. 'Tis not we who count, who are but pawns; but the cause we serve."
"I like it not," she flamed.
"Like it or not, 'tis inevitable."