"Now, Master Cobbe," said Sir Mark, "let us calmly and in friendly spirit talk over our affairs again. Suppose you fill your glass." "That I will," said the founder; "and you do the same." "I'll drink with you and welcome," said Sir Mark, filling his glass, nodding, and then wetting his lips, while the founder took a hearty draught. "That's better," he said. "And now, sir, what is it to be--a good order for his Majesty's troops?" "Yes, and fortune for you Master Cobbe. This order will be but the introduction to many. Why should you not be ordnance-master to his Majesty?" "Why, indeed, my lad," said the founder, composedly. "I should gain, of course, but the King would be no loser." "Then why not have it so, Master Cobbe. Come, I appeal to you--I plead to you. Are you blind to your daughter's advantages? I am not a moneyed man, but I offer position and a title." "If I sell her to thee," said the founder, looking through the wine in his glass. "Tush! Why call things by such hard names? 'tis no sale--I love her dearly, and to help my cause I own that I do try to press upon thee by means of the interest I have at court." "What should I make by your order, Sir Mark?" said the founder, musingly. "How can I tell?" cried Sir Mark, eagerly. "What do I know of the profits? All I know is that I can give you an order for guns and ammunition, to the value of three thousand pounds, to be paid in hard coin. You shall supply as many of those great howitzers and shells as you can, and then take on more men and make others, for from what I have seen of the performance of those guns you have made both name and fortune." The founder sat gazing through his wine again, as if musing, and the visitor watched the play of his features with anxiety. "Harkye, Master Cobbe," he whispered, "I offer marriage and a place at court for your child. Of course I know that there has been some love-talk between her and this Carr, as they call him, but he has sailed away, and what could be a better opportunity for my suit?" "But, suppose she loves this Gilbert Carr, Sir Mark?" "Tush, man; a girl's fancy! She will forget him in a week. The sight of a wedding-dress would drive him out of her head. You but give me access to her and your aid, and, trust me, she will be a willing bride. There, it is settled, is it not?" "Sir Mark Leslie," said the founder, sitting back in his chair; "if you could offer me ten times three thousand pounds in orders I would say the same. Sir, I am a bluff south-country yeoman, and I would sooner become the meanest beggar that crawls than sell my poor child as I would chaffer away a gun. There, I'll listen to no more. Stay, if you please; you are just as welcome. But I'll hear no more from you or any man upon this point." He gazed frankly into his guest's eye as Sir Mark's brow knit, and the young man strove hard to keep down the annoyance he felt at the rejection of his suit by this, in his eyes, common man.