CHAPTER XI
LANDLESS BECOMES A CONSPIRATOR
As Landless entered the hut Godwyn looked up with a pleased smile from the net he was mending. The two men had not seen each other since the night upon which Landless had been brought to the hut by the Muggletonian. Twice had Landless laid his plans for a second visit, only to be circumvented each time by the watchfulness of the overseer.
The smile died from Godwyn's face as he observed his visitor more closely.
"What is it?" he asked quickly.
Landless came up to him and held out his hand. "I am with you, Robert Godwyn, heart and soul," he said steadily.
The mender of nets grasped the hand. "I knew you would come," he said, drawing a long breath. "I have needed you sorely, lad."
"I could not come before."
"I know: Porringer told me you were prevented. I—" He still held Landless' hand in both his own, and as he spoke his slender fingers encircled the young man's wrist.
"What is the matter with your pulse?" he demanded. "And your eyes! They are glazing! Sit down!"