"Well, fellow," said my uncle to Quin, as we approached them, I walking behind my companion and with my own hat drawn down as low as possible so as to evade observation if I could do so. "Well, fellow, so thou hast determined to change thy song and serve Lord St. Amande, instead of vomiting forth abuse on him and doing thy best to thwart him. Is't not so?" and he let his cloak fall so that his features were visible, and his fierce, piercing eyes shone forth. "To serve Lord St. Amande is my wish," Quin replied gruffly, returning his glance boldly. "And have done so this morning, as I understand, though where that tosspot, O'Rourke, is, who should be here to settle matters, I know not." "Ay," Quin replied in the same tone as before, "I have done good service to his lordship this morning." "And the fellow is away to sea? The _Dove_ has sailed?" "Ay, away to sea on the road to Virginia! The _Dove_ has sailed." But while this discourse was taking place I was trembling in my wet boots--remember, I was still but a youth to whom tremblings and fears may be forgiven--for fixed on me were the eyes of Considine, and I knew that, disguised as I was in handsome apparel, if he had not yet recognised me he would do so ere long. "Yet," my uncle went on, "I should have thought you would have chosen a somewhat different style of companion for a helpmate in the affair than such a dandy youth as this. Wigs and laces and riding-boots, to say nought of roquelaures and swords by the side, are scarcely the kit of those who assist in carrying youths off for shipment to the King's colonies!" and he bent those piercing eyes on me while I saw that other pair, those of Considine, looking me through and through. "But," went on my uncle, "doubtless you know your own business best, and I suppose the youth is some young cogger, or decoy, whom thou can'st trust and who finds his account in the affair." "Nay," said Considine, springing at me, "'tis the whelp himself, and we are undone; some other has gone to sea, if any, in his place. Look! Look, my lord, you should know him well," and, tearing off my wig, he left me standing exposed to my uncle's regard and that of a few shore-side denizens who had been idly gazing upon us, and who now testified great interest in what was taking place. "What!" exclaimed my uncle, rushing forward. "What! 'Tis Gerald, as I live, and still safe on shore. Thou villain!" he said, turning to Oliver, "what hast thou done?" "The duty I was paid for and the duty I love. My duty to Lord St. Amande." "Scoundrel," the other said, lugging out his rapier, "this is too much. I will slay you and the boy as you stand here. Considine, draw."