Page 323 - A Jacobite Exile

"Very well then; here goes."

The story he told was in precise accordance with the suspicions that his
hearers had entertained. He had been tramping through the country,

sometimes pilfering, sometimes taking money as a footpad. He had, one
day, met John Dormay and demanded his money. He was armed only with
a heavy cudgel, and thought Dormay was defenceless.

The latter, however, produced a pistol from his pocket, and compelled him

to drop his stick; and then, taking him by the collar, made him walk to his
house. He had asked him questions as to his previous life, and had then
given him the choice of going to jail, or of acting under his instructions, in

which case he would be well rewarded. Naturally, he had chosen the second
alternative. And, having him completely under his thumb, John Dormay

had made him sign a paper, acknowledging his attempt at highway robbery
upon him.

The rest of the story was already known to his hearers. He had, several
times, overheard the conversations in the dining room, but had gathered

nothing beyond talk of what would be done, if the Pretender came over.
John Dormay had taught him the story of the assassination plot, and had
given him the letters to hide. He now swore that the whole story was false,

and had been told entirely at the dictation of John Dormay, and from fear of
the consequence to himself, if he refused to obey his orders.

When he had finished, Tony's wife was called in, and she made her mark,
and her husband signed his name, as witnesses to the signature of Robert

Nicholson.

"Now, I hope I may have something to eat," the man said, recklessly. "I am
ready to tell my story to whomsoever you like, but am not ready to be
starved."

"Give him food, Tony," Charlie said, "and keep a sharp lookout after him.

We will go across, and show this paper to the duke."