“The coping with sudden emergencies is scarcely my best quality,” said the man, still in low-voiced confidence. “I am hardly what would be called a man of action.”
Lurking in the eyes of the speaker as he said this was a glint of mockery, which did not escape the boy. And, as he caught it, the suspicion at once flashed through his mind:
“Is he playing with me? Is all that he has said mere pretense?”
But Bleekwood proceeded:
“It was Master Sugden who approached me first. He seemed to fancy me for the task, for some reason.
“‘A young gentleman of the name of Seaforth will ride the road to York on such and such a night,’ said he to me. ‘And there will bear him company another young gentleman of the name of Cooper.’”
Ben started at this, but covered the fact by making a pretense of turning slightly in his chair. Bleekwood went on:
“‘The matter is one to be kept secret,’ said Sugden to me, ‘for there are foolish prejudices abroad as to certain things. The youth Seaforth you may trust to do his share of what’s going forward. And you will meet him and the—ah—other, at the Crossed Keys.’”
“The Crossed Keys!” echoed Ben, his eyes opening wide.
“Why, to be sure,” said the other. “The Crossed Keys Inn—where we sit at the present moment.”