"That is being done. If our work is done silently through the next two days all will be well. Our great danger is that Hugh Boscawen shall hear of it. If he does, we are lost." "You speak strongly," said old Colman Killigrew; "you speak strongly, Father Anthony." "Because I feel strongly. I tell you much depends, very much depends on the next few days. Oh, I know! Have I not gone around to almost every house in the county? Have I not worn a dozen disguises? Have I not wormed my way into the confidence of the faltering, and given courage to cowards? Here I have been a droll, a story-teller, there a priest hearing confessions and commanding service. To many a man I have gone who longed for the true faith and dared not confess it, and to each I have brought hope and courage. Many and many a night have I sat in my lonely hiding-places thinking, thinking of this time and preparing for it. To-day, through my labours, and I make no boast, there be fifty heads of houses in this county ready not only to do battle themselves, but to lead their dependants, who but for me would have timidly cried, 'Long live King George II.' This I have done quietly, secretly. Pronounced Protestants have scarcely suspected it, and Hugh Boscawen, fool that he is, thinks the whole county is loyal to those German usurpers." "I know you have worked hard, Father Anthony," replied old Colman Killigrew. "Many and many is the hour that you and I have talked concerning these matters at Endellion; through you we are a strong chain, whereas without you we should have been loops of iron which have no connection." "And no one knows of the coming of Charles Stuart?" asked Otho Killigrew. "Not yet; it is not well. We must be silent; silent as death. Still if we are wise there will be no need to fear. There be many thousands who are true to our cause. Let Charles come, let the people see him at the head of a few hundred men, and they will flock to his standard as sheep flock together at the sound of the barking of the shepherd's dog. All the same, this Hugh Boscawen, this Viscount Falmouth must not know, for, fool though he may be, he hath much power." All this I heard, scarce thinking of what it meant. All was so sudden, so mysterious. But when Uncle Anthony finished speaking, the purport of it all flashed upon me like light. I saw, or fancied I saw, Mistress Nancy's purpose in conducting me to this room. She wished me to know the plans of these men; she knew, too, of the cunningly contrived arrangements whereby the sound was conveyed from one room to the other. All the same, I liked not the thought that she had made me an eavesdropper, although, doubtless the two rooms had been constructed by the Molesworths for some such purpose as this, and they were honourable men.