“Yes. You know him, then?”
“To be sure I do. We've had many dealings together. He's a shrewd fellow, and not over-scrupulous in the way of his trade; but, apart from that, he's a true-hearted, honest fellow, and a friend to the cause.”
“You think so, Mark,” said Talbot, with a smile of significant meaning.
“I know it, Talbot. He is not an acquaintance of yesterday with me. I have known him for years long. He is as deep in the plot as any, and perhaps has run greater risks than either of us.”
“Well, well,” said Talbot, sighing, as though either weary of the theme, or disinclined to contradict the opinion; “let us think of other matters. Shall we go to this ball or not? I incline to say nay.”
“What! Not go there?” said Mark, starting back in astonishment. “Why, what in heaven's name have we been waiting for, but this very opportunity?—and what reason is there now to turn from our plans?”
“There may be good and sufficient ones, even though they should be purely personal to myself,” said Talbot, in a tone of ill-dissembled pique. “But come; we will go. I have been walking over a mine too long to care for a mere petard. And now, let us lose no more time, but dress at once.”
“Must I really wear this absurd dress, Talbot? For very shame's sake, I shall not be able to look about me.”
“That you must, Mark. Remember that your safety lies in the fact that we attract no notice of any kind. To be as little remarked as possible is our object; and for this reason I shall wear the uniform of an English militia regiment, of which there are many at every Levee. We shall separate on entering the room, and meet only from time to time; but as we go along, I'll give you all your instructions. And now to dress, as quickly as may be.”