“Oh, that is easily had—go on, signor.”
“Well, I wish to go over to-morrow by daybreak to Limerick. I desire, too, that you should accompany me—as my companion, however, and my equal. We are about the same height and size, so take that suit there, dress yourself, and wait for me at the cross-roads below the village.”
The Italian took the parcel without speaking, and was about to retire, when Linton said,—
“You can write, I suppose?”
The other nodded.
“I shall want you to sign a document in presence of witnesses—not your own name, but another, which I'll tell you.”
The Italian's dark eyes flashed with a keen and subtle meaning, and leaning forward, he said in a low, distinct tone,—
“His Excellency means that I should forge a name?”
“It is scarcely deserving so grave a phrase,” replied Linton, affecting an easy smile; “but what I ask amounts pretty much to that. Have you scruples about it?”
“My scruples are not easily alarmed, signor; only let us understand each other. I'll do anything”—and he laid a deep emphasis on the word—“when I see my way clear before me, nothing when I am blindfolded.”