“Ay, but how and whither?” responded Thomas Winter, as wide awake as he usually was in all senses.
“If you have e’er a plan in your head, out with it,” replied Percy. “Just now, I’ve no head to put one in.”
“If you will hearken to me,” said Thomas, “you will now despatch Robin’s letter to my cousin Smallpiece.”
“What to do?”
“‘What to do’!—to win his aid. He is as true a Catholic as any of us.”
“Ay, he’s Catholic, but he is very timorous. He has no mind to be hanged, trust me.”
“Have you?”
“I should stand to it better than he. Then you’ll meet old Master Talbot, who shall kick you forth ere you have time to say, ‘An’t please you.’”
“I’ll have a care of that. Steenie, wilt have with me?”
Mr Stephen Littleton had to be awoke before he could answer the question. As soon as he understood what was demanded of him, he professed his readiness to accompany anybody anywhere in the future, so long as he might be let alone to finish his nap at the present. Before another sentence had been uttered, he reverted to an unconscious state.