"Ass that I am, of course they are. Steady, Mistress Margaret, while I go
through the pockets. The odds are we shall find something useful in
checkmating my Lord Brocton."
In this I was wrong, for there was not a single scrap of writing in any
of them. I did, however, fish out two small but heavy packets, wrapped in
paper. They were easily examined, and each contained a roll of ten guineas.
"The hire of the two rascals," explained Master Freake.
"Really, Mistress Margaret," said I, "there's something in what you said
just now. I do have his nether highness's own luck. I came out for
guineas, prepared to rob for them, and here's twenty of the darlings lying
ready for me to pick up. Now we can go ahead in comfort."
Through all this talk I was turning over in my mind what account, if any,
we were to give Master Freake of our being here. If I had had only myself
to consider I should have trusted him without hesitation. He was the sort
of man that inspires confidence, his grave, serene, intelligent face
having strength and steadfastness written in every line of it. But I had
Mistress Waynflete to consider, and if any appeal was to be made for his
assistance, she must make it.
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