"With whom?" inquired Manasseh.
"With one I care not much to name, sirs, for he does me no credit," was Robin's answer; "with Sir Willmott Burrell."
[The] old man shuddered, and said in an agitated voice—"Then, indeed, you will not do for me on this occasion."
"Under favour," persisted Robin, "I know not the occasion, and therefore cannot judge, if I may speak so boldly; but I have seen you before, sir, and can only say, that knowing all his manœuvres well, I am just the person to be trusted by his enemy."
"Young man," said the Jew, severely, "I am no man's enemy; I leave such enmity as you speak of to my Christian brethren. I ask only justice from my fellow mortals, and mercy from my God."
"But, sir, I thought you had sustained some wrong at the hands of Sir Willmott Burrell, from your visit at such an hour, and your manner on that night."
"Wrong! ay, such wrong as turns a father's hair grey, his veins dry, and scorches up his brain." The old man paused, for his feelings had overpowered him.
"I know none more faithful than Robin Hays," urged the pearl-merchant; "and now that I call to remembrance, the time he served that same knight, (who, I hear, is going to repair his fortunes by a wealthy marriage,) I think he did well as a lackey; though, to own the truth, I should fancy him more in his place, and to his liking, as the servitor to a bold Buccaneer."
"Buccaneer!" repeated Ben Israel—"What Buccaneer?"
"Oh!" said the merchant, smiling, "Hugh Dalton—the fairest man in the free trade."