"Very well--very well--but I'll have blood for blood, breach for breach, master; the Ironsides, Cromwell's tender pets, would have nice picking here. The Protector has already a scent of your whereabouts; he is one who neither slumbers nor sleeps. Let the bold Buccaneer look to it, and I'll straight seek some less _honest_ man to do my bidding." "Heave over such jargon," replied Dalton, upon whom Burrell's threats seemed to have made no impression. "Suppose you did betray me, how many days' purchase would your life be worth? Think ye there are no true hearts and brave, who would sacrifice their own lives to avenge the loss of mine? Avast, Master of Burrell! you are old enough to know better." "And you ought to know better than to sail against the wind. Why, man, the little Jewess is freighted with jewels; a very queen of diamonds. And I care not for them: you may keep them all--so----" The villain's lip faltered; he feared to speak of the deed his heart had planned. Dalton made no reply, but covered his face with his hand, leaning his elbow on the table. Burrell took advantage of his silence to urge the riches of the rabbi's daughter, the presents he himself would give, and wound up the discourse with protests loud and earnest of everlasting gratitude. Dalton let him speak on, but still maintained an inflexible silence. "'Sdeath, man!" exclaimed Burrell, hastily, after a pause of some minutes; "art asleep, or stupid?" "Neither," replied the Buccaneer. "But I will do your bidding. Now, write your directions,--here are pens, ink, paper, all that you require,--and my reward; write, sir, and then good night." Burrell did so, while Dalton paced up and down his den, as if meditating and arranging some action of importance. All matters being agreed upon, apparently to the satisfaction of both, they were about to separate, when Burrell inquired-- "Did you land any Cavaliers lately?" "Not I; they are but a bad freight; broad pieces are a scarce commodity with Charlie's friends." "Very strange. I met a braggart the other night, but I dare say he was one of the Syndercomb gang. His highness imagines you conveyed some of them to their head-quarters." "Does he?" "Master Dalton, you are close." "Master Burrell, I have agreed to do your business." "Well!" "I mean it to be well. Consequently, I have not agreed to tell you mine." Burrell looked daggers for a moment, and then turned off with a hasty step and a forced laugh. "Blasted be my hand for touching his in the way of amity!" exclaimed the Buccaneer, striking the table with a violence that echoed through the room. "The cold-blooded, remorseless villain! She is too good for such a sacrifice--I must be at work. And so, one infamy at a time is not enough for the sin-dealing land lubber; he wanted to worm out of me---- Robin! ahoy! Robin!"