On seeing the gold the man's ill temper vanished. "Good gentlemen," cried he, seizing eagerly the coin, "I spoke but hastily."
"That we know," said Winter, "and, perchance we, had we been so rudely awakened, would have done as thou didst. Hath any disturbed thee during thy guardianship?"
"None, save a few drunken braggarts who found their way hither, and would have battered in the door. Did any come whose wits were sharper than their caution, I would have——"
"What?" asked Fawkes pointedly, as the speaker hesitated.
"Faith!" replied Keyes, "being a poor man, and a bag of gold pieces forthcoming upon the safe loading of this devil's face powder onto the Spanish vessel, 'twould be but just, that did any seek to cheat me of it—well, the river tells no tales; what think ye, gentlemen?"
Percy shuddered; Winter pressed his hand. "Nay, good Percy," he whispered, "'tis scarce like to happen, yet even so, we would be but instruments in the hand of God."
During this conversation Fawkes, who seemed to be familiar with the house, had led his companions into a small apartment whose window overlooked the river which, washing against the stone foundation of the dwelling, offered a safe retreat did any, bent upon trouble making, force the street door.
Winter and Percy glanced about them. The place was bare save for a rude cot, a shaky table upon which flickered an iron-bound lantern, and a small chest that, did occasion require, could be placed against the narrow door. At a sign from Fawkes, Keyes drew aside the bed, disclosing in the floor the outlines of a trap door, which covered an opening to the cellar beneath. Stooping, he raised the heavy cover, revealing the top rounds of a rude ladder leading into the blackness below.
"'Tis there!" said Fawkes shortly, "wouldst see it, gentlemen?"
Percy drew back, when Keyes, misunderstanding his hesitancy, caught the lantern from the table.