"Is he of good credit?"
"Faith, Roupall, I know not his banker."
"Good again, Master Robin; upon what grinding-stone were your wits
sharpened?"
"Right loyally, good trooper; even upon King Log," replied Robin,
grinning maliciously; and then, as if fearful that the gathering storm
would forthwith burst, he continued: "Come, let's have a carouse, and
wake the sleepers in that snug nest between walls; let's welcome in the
morning, like gay gallants, while I tell you the court news, and exhibit
the last court fashion, as it graces my own beautiful form!"
The man looked at him and smiled, soothed into something resembling
good-nature by the odd humour and appearance of his old companion, who
was tricked out, with much precision, in a blue doublet and yellow hose,
while a large bow of sad-coloured riband, with fringed ends, dangled
from either knee. He then glanced a look of complacency on his own
proper person, and replied,-"No, let them sleep, Robin; they are better off than I. That maidenlike
friend of yours has taken possession of my bed, after your mother's
routing me up as if I had been a stoat or a dormouse. Of course he is a
Cavalier: I suppose he has a name; but is that, too, a secret?"
"Master Roupall," replied the other, with a look of great sagacity, "as
to the person, it's hard to say who's who, these times; and as to the
name, why, as you say, I suppose he has a name, and doubtless a good
one, though I cannot exactly now call to mind what it is; for at
court----"
"D--n court!" interrupted the other--"you're all court-smitten, I'm
thinking. In plain English, I want to know who this youngster is? When
Hugh is in one of his romances, he cares not who or what he sends us,
either here, or, what is of more consequence, on the main-land--and we
are to receive them and 'tend them, and all the time, mayhap, are
hazarding our own heads; for I'd bet an even wager that one of the
ferrymen is a spy in the pay of old red-nose; and it's little we get for
such hazards--it's many a day since even a keg of brandy has been run
ashore."
"You have sworn an oath, for which I should exact, I think, the sum of
three shillings and four-pence, Jack the Rover; but, I fear me, thou
hast not wherewithal to satisfy the law, even in a small thing, until
thou offerest thy neck unto the halter as a sacrifice. But did Hugh
Dalton ever bring you, or any man, into trouble yet?" continued Robin,
composing his comic features into a grave and quiet character.