9o THE SCARLET SASH

said, confidentially, “ I’ve important business-may interest you. I want to enter the States, say near Oswego, and sniff around in

disguise. Will you take me down the lake to a place of entry? Better leave in the night.”

“ Expectin’ dirty times? ”

“ Certain of it, Cap, 0r Pm no more’n a puffed jackanape.”

“ The Sea Gull ’s a man short, Captain. Grumper was plugged, you know. P’raps, though, I can pick up a lounger that’ll do for the job.”

“ See old Tottenby. He can tell you of someone. How about it? Army work, you know, and sure pay.”

The skipper winked. “ To-morrow night do? ”

It was agreed the hour should be at two.

“ Sly villains around us, Moffatt,” added the Captain. “ Their ears are pricked up like terriers. The Government has evidence that some of our own citizens are scheming with Emmet, in New York, and with the French Minister, at Washington.”

“ You don’t mean ? ”

“ I mean that Fairbug and Kildare are suspected. Others, too. They’re reporting a chance of revolution here.” As he spoke he noticed the skipper lift his eyebrows and draw a hand down over his chin. “ Don’t believe me, eh? Wait. They’re clever rogues, but I’ll find them out, trust me for that. As for you, Moffatt,

you’re as ignorant as a dead dog. Do you understand? You know nothing? ”

“ Nuthin’. Men of my trade never do.”

“Very well. When you see me again I’ll be known as Charles Pembroke—a stranger, a gentleman if you like, travelling quietly, here and there. You know what I mean? ”

He gazed deep into Moffatt’s eyes, to reassure himself, probably, that the skipper could be trusted. In that gaze he revealed two characters. One was of Drawglare, the daring, experienced fighting man, who asked no quarter and gave none; the other of a cool, penetrating but affable commoner who, under the name of Charles Pembroke, would pick secrets out of the mouths of the unsuspecting. Moffatt read what was in his eyes.

“ Draw/glare,” he said, bluntly, “ I know every inlet on the lake. There’s a fisherman’s empty house at Union Creek, three miles out from ’Swego. How’ll that do? I’ll land you there when the moon’s low. Remember, to-morrow night at two.”

“Settled. Good-night.”

When the officer had gone, Moffatt turned to the merchant, who