"Hang me," cries Dawson, "if I thought it was anything but a whimsey of your honour's."
"I should like to know if we may carry out this stratagem honestly," says I.
"Aye," cries Jack. "I'll not agree for cutting of throats or breaking of bones, for any money."
"I can tell you no more than this," says the Don. "The fortune we may take is now in the hands of a man who has no more right to it than we have."
"If that's so," says Jack, "I'm with you, Señor. For I'd as lief bustle a thief out of his gains as say my prayers, any day, and liefer."
"Still," says I, "the money must of right belong to some one."
"We will say that the money belongs to a child of the same age as Moll."
"Then it comes to this, Señor," says I, bluntly. "We are to rob that child of fifty thousand pounds."
"When you speak of robbing," says the Don, drawing himself up with much dignity, "you forget that I am to play a part in this stratagem--I, Don Sanchez del Castillo de Castelaña."
"Fie, Kit, han't you any manners?" cries Dick. "What's all this talk of a child? Hasn't the Señor told us we are but to bustle a cheat?"