“Then, in God’s name, think.”
Etheredge laughed at his host’s vehemence. He brimmed himself a cup of wine, surveyed the rich glow of it in the candlelight and drank it off.
“Inspiration flows. Invention stirs within me. Now listen.” And sitting forward he propounded a plan of campaign with that rascally readiness of wit that was at once his glory and his ruin.
CHAPTER IX ALBEMARLE PROPOSES
Ned Tucker did not long leave his proposal to Holles unconfirmed. He sought him in the matter again at the Paul’s Head three days later, on the Sunday, and sat long in talk with him in the little parlour, to the profound disquieting of Mrs. Quinn, who had observed from the gentleman’s bearing and apparel that he was a person of consequence.
He found the Colonel a little more malleable to-day, a little less insistent upon serving only governments in esse. The fact was that, as day followed day without word from Albemarle, Holles approached the conclusion that things were indeed as Tucker had represented them. His hopes sank, and his dread of that score of his which was daily mounting at the Paul’s Head added to his despair.
Still, he did not altogether yield to Tucker’s persuasions; but neither did he discourage him when the latter promised to visit him again on the morrow, bringing another old friend of their Parliament days. And on the Monday, true to his promise, Tucker came again, accompanied this time by a gentleman some years his senior, named Rathbone, with whom Colonel Holles recalled some slight acquaintance. This time they came with a very definite proposal, empowered, so they told him, by one whose name they would not yet utter, but which, if uttered, must remove his every doubt.
“For that, Randal, you will accept our word, I know,” said the grave Tucker.