“Well enough but what’s your purpose with me? Why have you brought me here?”
“When you know that,” said he, “you’ll know as much as I do. Nay, you’ll know more.”
“You mean that you’re hired for this? You’re only the servant of an enemy of mine, whose interest it is to keep me out of Rogues’ Haven?”
“Rogues’ Haven! So you’ve caught the name?”
“To be sure I know the name,” I answered boldly for the good humour of the fellow. “And know the reason for it. And think I know the name of your principal.”
“Oh, ho! Though he plays his game in secret. You’ll be knowin’ more’n it’s safe for you to know, young sir. And”—with a sudden gesture towards the door—“if you’ll take a word from me, you’ll be wiser, if you keep your mouth shut.”
While yet I blinked at him, I heard the old woman once more unlock the door to admit the big fellow’s companion, who presently entered the room. I saw him for a lean, cadaverous, young man of no great height; his high-crowned hat, his coat, his buckskins, the laces at his throat dandified; he was jauntily flicking his top boots with his riding switch, and his spurs were jingling. An ill-looking fellow,—I marked his pale sneering lips and the sinister light of his green eyes; I feared him as an enemy even as I feared the crone with the blue shawl about her black rags, her evil eyes peering at me, and her jaws working, as she hobbled after him.
“So-ho, Martin, here we are, all safe and snug,” cried the big man from the hearth. “Find us the tipple in that cupboard of yours, Mother Mag, and then I’ll be packing.”
“You’ll be staying here, my friend Roger,” said Martin, coolly, dropping into a chair by the table. “You’re to wait until he comes.”
“I tell you I’ll have my drink and be off,” Roger growled, scowling at him. “Who the devil are you to be givin’ me orders? I’ve an affair twenty miles off as ever was by break o’ day.”