Stowmaries shrugged his shoulders in moody contempt. Sir John looked like one profoundly impressed at an unforeseen aspect of affairs.
"As for me," growled one of the men sulkily, "pay me for it and I'll stick a knife into any person you list."
He was an elderly man with a red face and straggly white hair. He had been a scholar once, drunkenness and an inordinate love of gambling had made him what he now was.
"For ten golden sovereigns I'd poison the King!" quoth another thickly.
"For less than that I'd sell my soul!" added another.
"Thou canst not sell what thou hast not got," comes in a quick reply from the further end of the table.
"And you, friend Michael, what would you do for a fortune?" asked Sir John returning Michael's gaze with a firm, earnest look.
"I'd ask the devil to spare my cousin here!" replied Michael flippantly.
"You would not play the part of an hired assassin, I am sure."
"If I hated any one well enough, I'd kill him without pay," retorted the other.