"Methinks we are understanding each other with great haste," I replied. "Mark you, I wish to use no harsh methods, otherwise I could easily make many things known to King Charles when he lands at Dover."
"And yet you speak angrily," he cried. "I am an old man, and cannot bear to have an enmity towards any man. I would live peaceably. Besides, my heart goes out to you. Let us act as friends. But I cannot tell you what you want to know without knowing who you are."
"I will tell you this," I replied, "I seek not to harm you. You have a secret; that I know, and I can see my way to finding out that secret."
"But you will not—you must not!"
There was terror in his voice, terror in his eyes, as he spoke.
"Look, look; we will act together. I saw you were a youth of courage and wit the first moment I cast my eyes on you. You are of gentle blood, too. You would not break a promise—that I know. You would stand by a bargain, too. Oh, you would, I know you would. Would you not?"
"If I make a bargain I will stand by it," I replied. "If I make a promise I will keep it."
"Even in the face of death?" he replied.
"A gentleman doth not break a promise because of the fear of death," I answered. "He will keep to it under all circumstances, unless the man to whom he hath made it hath forfeited his right to have the promise kept."
"Ah, then, look here, look at me, straight in the eyes—that's it! If I tell you what you wish to know you will promise me this. First, you will not seek to discover anything more about me. You understand that? You will not try and find out who I am, where I spend my days or my nights. You will say nothing about me to man, woman, nor child. If you hear aught at any time or at any place of the old man who hath been seen under strange circumstances at Pycroft, you will say nought, nor show by sign of any sort that you have ever heard or seen him."