You see now why I did not care to know your gentleman in the mask; for really, in spite of his excellent intentions, I could not thank him for what he has done.”
Mordaunt bowed humbly. “Sir,” he said, “you are a profound thinker and your plan was sublime.”
“Say absurd, since it has become useless. The only sublime ideas in politics are those which bear fruit. So to-night, Mordaunt, go to Greenwich and ask for the captain of the felucca Lightning. Show him a white handkerchief knotted at the four corners and tell the crew to disembark and carry the powder back to the arsenal, unless, indeed — — ”
“Unless?” said Mordaunt, whose face was lighted by a savage joy as Cromwell spoke: