“This is curious work, Master Cobbe, in his Majesty’s dominions. Law and order seem to be held cheaply here. It was time something was done.”
“And yet, sir, we have gone on for years, offending none, and have found life very bearable,” said the founder, warmly. “We owe no man aught, and we ask no favours from any. But you had business to do with me, Sir Mark. Shall we go in?”
“No,” said Sir Mark, “I’ll say what I have to say out here.”
The founder softly rubbed his hands and wished that the great howitzer had not been replaced in the shed, for it might have been fired again, and its wonderful strength and carrying powers exhibited to the King’s messenger. If he saw its value, and made good representations at court, that would be a large fortune for his child.
He rubbed his hands again, smiling to himself the while, till he awoke suddenly to the fact that Sir Mark was watching, when he seemed suddenly to tighten himself up, and gazed back shrewdly at his companion, who smiled and said—
“I came back to you, Master Cobbe, armed with great powers by His Majesty, to whom I have talked long and learnedly upon your works and knowledge of the arts and mysteries of making guns.”
“That is well, Sir Mark,” said the founder, smiling. “And what said his Majesty?”
“He left in my hands the power and discretion to order of you—largely—sundry munitions of war.”
“That is good,” said the founder, rubbing his hands, as if the palms began to itch to feel the money.
“Hi was satisfied with the quality and workmanship.”