Peel shrugged his shoulders.
"My experience of the world is that the man with gold lace on his coat goes free, while they punish the poor devil in the leather jacket. But, turn the scheme out bad or ill, how much money is at the end of it?"
"There'll be ten guineas at the end of it for each man, win or lose."
"And when will the money be paid?"
"Half before you leave Rye, the other half in a week's time, and perhaps before,—a week's time at the latest; but I want men who will not turn white if a blunderbuss happens to go off."
The rascallion smiled and spat contemptuously in the dust before him.
"If you show me the guineas," said he, "I'll show you the men."
"Here's five of them, to begin with, that won't be counted against you. There'll be five more in your pocket when we leave Rye, and a third five when the job's ended."
His big hand closed over the coins.
"I like your way of speaking," he said. "Now where are we to go?"