“And what was that?”
“To seek the Lascar, and enter into a compact with him to sell the dispatch.”
Ethan turned white; his eyes blazed and he struggled desperately with the stout ropes that bound him.
“If I were free,” he gasped, “I’d make you regret those words.”
“Oh, spare me any heroics,” sneered the British spy. “I know that both you and that Scottish renegade, John Paul Jones, profess a most lofty patriotism. But neither of you can deceive me.”
“That,” cried Longsword, who had not been able to speak before, so great was his astonishment, “is the most bla’guardly accusation I ever heard in me life, so it is. D’ye mean to say that this lad whom I held in me two arms as a babe, would sell his country to your mad old king?”
“If the price of his treachery were sufficient, of course he would,” jeered Danvers. “It was the end of country and all else when he knew that ten thousand pounds would be gained by the delivery of the dispatch. I have met many men; and I am a fair judge of these little things, believe me.”
“If I were as sharp as you,” growled the Irish trooper, “I’d be afraid to associate wid meself, so I would.”
“I was here when the Lascar came,” said Danvers to Ethan, and ignoring Longsword. “I saw him meet the earl; I overheard what they said.”
“Ah!” said Ethan, with an eagerness that he was unable to conceal.