"Aye, that we are," replies Dawson, mightily pleased as usual to be
a-feasting. "We desire nothing better than to serve your honour
faithfully in all ways, and are ready to put our hands to any bond you
may choose to draw up."

"Can you show me the man," asks the Don, lifting his eyebrows
contemptuously, "who ever kept a treaty he was minded to break? Men are
honest enough when nought's to be gained by breaking faith. Are you both
agreed to this course?"

"Yes, Señor," says I, "and my only compunction now is that I can do so
little to forward this business."

"Why, so far as I can see into it," says Dawson, "one of us must be cast
for old Mrs. Godwin, if Moll is to be her daughter, and you're fitter to
play the part than I, for I take it this old gentlewoman should be of a
more delicate, sickly composition than mine."

"We will suppose that Mrs. Godwin is dead," says the Don, gravely.

"Aye, to be sure; that simplifies the thing mightily. But pray, Señor,
what parts are we to play?"

"The parts you have played to-day. You go with me to fetch Judith Godwin
from Barbary."

"This hangs together and ought to play well; eh, Kit?"

I asked Don Sanchez how long, in the ordinary course of things an
expedition of this kind would take.