"Silence, man!" cried Sir Mark, angrily. "I am no dealer seeking a bribe, but one who would do you a good turn, if possible, at a very difficult time. You have enemies." "If successful, didst ever know a man without?" "And they have somehow given the King to understand that it was really you who supplied the conspirators with the powder for their deadly plot." "But I swear--" began the founder. "What good will that do, sir? An enemy swears against thee, and humours the king, who, so great is his hatred of such matters, lends willing ear to the charge, and would rather believe the treason of thee than not." "That's a pretty state of affairs!" cried the founder. "Do you mean to tell me, Sir Mark, that the king would willingly believe an honest man guilty?" "His Majesty gives much of his time to two subjects--that of witchcraft and that of schemes against his person. You know how deadly a plot was laid against him by his Papist enemies?" "Ay, I know all that; but--" "Hear me out, Master Cobbe, then you shall speak to your heart's content. Here is the case. It has been reported to his Majesty that you are a great factor of deadly gunpowder; that you sell it largely to his Majesty's enemies; and that at the present time you are receiving into your house a Papist spy--one Father Brisdone, who is making arrangement for a fresh supply of powder for some new plan." "It's a lie!" roared the founder, striking his doubled fist in his opened hand. "Now, look here, Master Ambassador, or whatever you call yourself, how comes his Majesty to know aught about my powder and Father Brisdone? It strikes me, sir, that yours have been the lips that made the mischief." Sir Mark was taken aback by this outburst, but he recovered himself pretty quickly. "I will not take offence, neither will I argue with you upon such a point, Master Cobbe," he said, coldly. "Let me ask you this--Was mine the speech that gave evil report of thee to the King, which said evil report first brought me down?" "True!" exclaimed the founder. "I beg thy pardon, my lad. There is some busy meddling rascal, then, who tells tales of me and mine. Well, all I say is, let him look to it. I would not be he for a something if we two stood together some night by the mill-pool." "You would not throw him in?" said Sir Mark. "No; but I might push him in, and leave him to get out how he could. But there, you can send word to his Majesty that he has been deceived. Certainly I sell powder to go abroad along with my guns--powder made of the softest dogwood charcoal we can burn." "Yes," said Sir Mark; "I could, as you say, send word to his Majesty that it is not so, but it would require backing up with stronger asseveration." "To be sure," said the founder; "and that you will make. You tell his Majesty that I am the last man in the kingdom to do him harm." "Why should I tell him this, Master Cobbe?" "Why? Why tell him?" said the blunt founder. "Why? Because it is the truth."