188 A JACOBITE EXILE

he was strong enough to listen, a friend would come who
would tell him all about it. On the third day he heard the
sound of an approaching horse, and was not surprised
when, after a conversation in a low tone outside, Ben
Soloman entered. Charlie was now much stronger, but he
had carefully abstained from showing any marked improve-
ment, speaking always in a voice a little above a whisper,
and allowing the men to feed him after making one or two
pretended attempts to convey the spoon to his mouth.

“Well, Master Englishman,” Ben Soloman said, as he
came up to his bedside, “what do you think of things?”

“I do not know what to think,” Charlie said feebly. “I
do not know where I am, or why I am here. I remember
that there was a fray in the street, and I suppose I was hurt,
but why was I brought here instead of being taken to my
lodgings?”

“Because you would be no use to me in your lodging,
and you may be a great deal of use to me here,” Ben
Soloman said. “You know you endeavoured to entrap me
into a plot against the king’s life.”

Charlie shook his head and looked wonderingly at the
speaker. “No, no,” he said, “there was no plot against
the king’s life; I only asked if you would use your influ-
ence among your friends to turn popular fecling against
Augustus.”

“Nothing of the kind,” the Jew said harshly. “You
wanted him removed by poison or the knife. ‘There is no
mistake about that, and that is what I am going to swear,
and what, if you want to save your life, you will have to
swear too; and you will have to give the names of all con-
cerned in the plot, and to swear that they were all agreed
to bring about the death of the king. Now you understand
why you were brought here. You are miles away from
another house, and you may shout and scream as loud as
you like. You are in my power.”