"And now, Gerald, for so I shall call thee, lord though thou art," Oliver said to me that night, "we must think for the means for seizing on thy cousin. I know enough of the weather and the many signs it gives to feel sure that it is changing. It gets colder, which presages a north easterly wind, and this will carry the Dove out of the river and to sea. Therefore, it behoves us to be busy. To-night is Monday, by Wednesday at daybreak, if I mistake not, the brig will be away. Therefore, to-morrow night we must have the young princock in our hands. Now, how shall we proceed?"
"He is almost nightly at Macarthy's tavern--I have seen him in passing, when I was hiding with the beggars. Yet," I said, breaking off, "oh, think, Oliver, of what you are about! If you are made accountable for this, you may be sent to prison or worse even."
"Tush, tush! lad!" he answered. "Have no fear for me. Yet it is kind of thee to think of it. Still, there is nought to fear. He goes not on board until I have thy uncle's quittance, though he may say little enough, fearing to commit himself overmuch; and for the rest, when he is gone, why we go, too--only another gait."
"We, too! Why, where shall we go?"
"Where? Why, to England, lad. To London. To thy mother. Shall we not have the wherewithal? We have fifty guineas already; we shall have more than double by Wednesday morning; and then away for Holyhead or Liverpool by the first packet that sails, and so to London."
"But, Oliver, what will you do to live? The guineas will not last for ever."
"No, that is true; but they will go far, and with them I can traffic as a master and not a man. Or I can hoard them for thy use" (how unselfish he was, I thought!) "and go back to work as a journeyman--they say none need want for work in London--and so be ever near to watch and ward over thee."
"Oliver," I exclaimed, "I think that even now the Lord has raised up that champion for me of whom you spoke. It seems that you are mine."
"Nay, there will arise a better for thee than I can ever be; but until he comes I must, perforce, do my best. Now let us make our plans."
And these are the plans we arranged. Knowing that there was no longer any search likely to be made for me--since 'twas certain that those who sought my ruin thought it was as good as accomplished--I was to sally forth next night disguised, and was to prowl about Macarthy's tavern and other haunts of my abandoned cousin until I had safely run him to earth. After this Quin was to be summoned by me from the hipping-hawd where he would be, and, presuming that the captain of the Dove had sent the expected word, he was then to keep Mr. Roderick St. Amande in sight until we could secure him.