But Marlborough had seen his uses, for the great Duke sat loose to parties and earnestly desired to know the facts.

So for Marlborough he went into the conclaves of both Whig and Jacobite, making his complexion suit his company.
He was new come from the Scottish south-west, for the Duke was eager to know if the malcontent moorland Whigs were about to fling their blue bonnets for King James.

A mission of such discomfort Mr.Lovel had never known, not even when he was a go-between for Ormonde in the Irish bogs.
He had posed as an emissary from the Dutch brethren, son of an exiled Brownist, and for the first time in his life had found his regicide great-grandfather useful.

The jargon of the godly fell smoothly from his tongue, and with its aid and that of certain secret letters he had found his way to the heart of the sectaries.

He had sat through weary sermons in Cameronian sheilings, and been present at the childish parades of the Hebronite remnant.