"Ralph is a fine fellow," said Cornwaleys, "and Dick himself is open-handed."
"Ay, and open-mouthed," added Neale. "Some daring souls may whisper touching matters of state; but he must needs shout out his opinions louder than any Roundhead in Parliament."
"The fool!" muttered Brent (for it was he who had just come up).
"Fool he is," answered Neale; "who ever knew Dick Ingle other than a fool? But who shall say it was not truth he spoke when he said the King was no king."
"Well, well," Brent said impatiently, "waste no words on idle speculations; but let us keep our wits to try how we may steer a safe course between the devil and the deep sea. If we apprehend this man 'tis an affront to the Parliament to whom he swears allegiance. If we apprehend him not, 'tis as good as to make ourselves partakers in his lèse-majesté. So 'tis clear the only course is both to apprehend him and to let him go. All the people will hear of the proclamation and of my order of arrest. This will satisfy their sense of justice, and so are we quit of our official duties. And afterward if the sheriff, through some carelessness and neglect, let Richard Ingle go free and he reach his own quarter-deck and set sail for England before ever he be caught—why—"
"Sh!" whispered Cornwaleys, "speak softer, or all will fail. Neale, you have your eye to the chink in the shutter?"
"Ay, and can see as if I were in the room. It is hard to say which is drinking the harder."
"No man can keep his legs with that quantity of ale in his belly," answered Cornwaleys; "we shall find them in the morning on the tavern floor."
"Hm!" reflected Neale, "there is some danger o' that and 'twill not suit our plans neither. We'd best stir Ellyson a bit."
With this he shuffled his feet and moved the shutter back and forth. The sound reached the ear of Ellyson. He paused with his mug half-way to his lips, and then, setting his flagon down hard on the board, he rose, and putting his hand into the breast of his jerkin drew forth something white.