The two glided off in their turn, and Godwyn said to the Muggletonian, "Friend Porringer, that mended sail must be bestowed in the large boat before the hut against Haines' coming for it in the morning. Will you take it to the boat for me? And if you will wait there this young man shall join you shortly."
The Muggletonian nodded, piled the heap of dingy sail upon his head and strode off. The mender of nets turned to Landless.
"Well," he said. "What do you think?"
"I think," said Landless, raising his voice, "that the gentleman in the dark corner must be tired of standing."
There was a dead silence. Then a piece of shadow detached itself from the other heavy shadows in the dark corner and came forward into the torch light, where it resolved itself into a handsome figure of a man, apparently in the prime of life, and wearing a riding cloak of green cloth and a black riding mask. Not content with the concealment afforded by the mask, he had pulled his beaver low over his eyes and with one hand held the folds of the cloak about the lower part of his face. He rested the other ungloved hand upon the table and stared fixedly at Landless. "You have good eyes," he said at last, in a voice as muffled as his countenance.
"It is a warm night," said Landless with a smile. "If Major Carrington would drop that heavy cloak, he would find it more comfortable."
The man recoiled. "You know me!" he cried incredulously.
"I know the Carrington arms and motto. Tenax et Fidelis, is it not? You should not wear your signet ring when you go a-plotting."
The Surveyor-General of the Colony dropped his cloak, and springing forward seized Landless by the shoulders.
"You dog!" he hissed between his teeth, "if you dare betray me, I'll have every drop of your blood lashed out of your body!"