"Thought, sir," answered Green, "has only served to confirm everything that I then felt. In the first place, Sir George Barkley, you have dealt with me in this business uncandidly; and if I had not had better information than that which you gave me, pretending to be a friend, I should have been smuggled into a transaction which I abhor and detest." "How mean you, sir? How mean you? I was perfectly candid with you," said Sir George Barkley. "Ha, ha, ha!" exclaimed Green, laughing scornfully. "Perfectly candid! Yes, when you could not be otherwise. You told me, sir, that you wanted my assistance with ten men well armed for a service of great honour and danger; but until I put the question straightforward to you--having already obtained a knowledge of your proceedings--you did not tell me that the service you required was the cold-blooded murder of William, wrongly called King of England." "That, sir, was to be explained to you afterwards," said Sir George Barkley. "Afterwards!" exclaimed Green: "ay, sir, how soon afterwards? After the deed was done, ha? or after I was so far committed that I could not retract? And let me ask you, why it was that I was not to be informed till afterwards, when every other person here present knew it long before--I, who remained by the bloody waters of the Boyne when you acted as the King's running footman, and heralded him back to France? Nay, nay, you shall hear me out, sir, now. I believe not that you would ever have told me, had it not been that this intercepted letter fell into my hands, and informed me of all your proceedings, when you thought I knew them not." And as he spoke he held the letter out before him, and struck his hand fiercely upon the paper. The others looked round, each in his neighbour's face, with a doubtful, and disconcerted look, and Green went on before any one could answer. "Why was all this, Sir George Barkley?" he said. "Why was this concealment? I will tell you why: because you dared not for your life propose such a thing to me, till you thought I was so far committed that I could not escape you; and if I had not asked you myself the question, I should never have heard the truth till this day." Dark and darker shades of passion had come over the countenance of Sir George Barkley while Green had been speaking; and he, Charnock, and one of the others, during the latter part of their new companion's somewhat vituperative address, had been exchanging looks very significant and menacing. At length, however, Sir George Barkley exclaimed, "Come, come, Colonel--this language is too much. You have been asking questions and answering them yourself. We have now one or two to ask you, and we hope you will answer them as much to our satisfaction as you have answered the others to your own." "What are your questions, sir?" demanded Green, fixing his eye upon him sternly. "Let me hear them, and if it suits me I will reply; if not, you must do without an answer."