Blackhead was only in prison for a short while, and Young had no idea when he himself would be released; so Blackhead was the man for the job.
“There is a way of getting your revenge on them,” said Young. “They are worse criminals than you, my dear fellow. You are trying to get enough to eat;
“Who?” asked Blackhead.
Young appeared to consider. Then he said: “I know I can trust you with an important secret. This is a matter which concerns the state. Will you swear to secrecy?”
Blackhead swore.
“I happen to have a document in my hands which could bring important people to the scaffold.” Blackhead looked incredulous. “You think I’m mad. What if I showed it to you?”
“You would?”
“I trust you my friend.”
Young brought the document from inside his jacket and showed Blackhead. Blackhead could not read, but he was impressed by the writing.
“You see that name,” Young pointed. “That is Marlborough. And you see that—that is Thomas Sprat, Bishop of Rochester. That is the Archbishop of Canterbury and those are Lord Salisbury and Lord Cornbury.”
“All those famous people! But how did you get it?”
“Never you mind. I make it my business to discover these plots and help the government. In this it says they’ll kill the King and Queen and bring back James.”
“The King and Queen ought to know about it.”
“That’s exactly what I think.”
“But you could send it to them.”
“Do you think they would believe me? I’ve tried to help them before, but I’m a poor man, wrongly accused. What chance have I against them?”
“There’s one law for them, another for us. Why, I wasn’t given a chance …”
Young interrupted; he wanted no further meandering through the wrongs suffered by Stephen Blackhead.
“The only way to get this brought to light is to put it in one of their houses and then let it be known that it will be found there.”
“How’d you get into one of their houses?”
“I would if I were free.”
“But you’re here and so you can’t.”
“No, but you’ll be free next week.”
“Me?”
“You want a slice of the reward, don’t you? I can tell you it will be a big one.”
Blackhead licked his lips and although he had turned pale he said: “What would I have to do?”
“It’s easy. You go to the Bishop of Rochester’s house to take a letter.”
“What letter?”
“Don’t worry about that. I’ll give you the letter. It will have been sent by your master.”
“What master?”
“Some Doctor of Divinity. You’re his manservant and he has sent you to deliver the letter. When you get there you’ll be in need of refreshment and it will be given to you. You’ll be taken to the kitchens by the servants. You will talk to them, tell them how honored you are to be in a Bishop’s house; you can ask to see where the Bishop works. You’ll touch his table with reverence. ‘Is this where His Honor does his writing? Is this where His Honor sits?’ you’ll ask. You’ll flatter them. Lucky people to work for a great bishop. You’re just the servant of a humble priest. Then, when none of them is looking you slip the document somewhere … behind a picture … in a drawer, pushed well back so that it won’t be easily discovered. You’ll have to find the place when you get there. All you have to do is to make sure it is somewhere where the Bishop is not going to find it for a little while. Once you’ve done it, we shall inform the government that the document is in the Bishop’s house and where it is. They will find it and we shall be rewarded.”
Blackhead was staring at Young
“Suppose they won’t show me into his rooms?”
“Then you’ll put it somewhere else. I can see you’re a man of resource. Think what your reward will be. The state owes you something in my opinion.”
“In mine too,” grumbled Blackhead; but he was bemused.
Young was slightly anxious. Would Blackhead have the sense to work this thing? He wasn’t the accomplice he would have chosen. But how else was the plan going to work? Young was accustomed to taking chances. Well, he had to take a big one now.
