This was said under the lady's breath.
"And if he does not?" she questioned. "If he refuses to pay your price?"
"Then Sir Noel cannot expect me to be more merciful to his son than he is."
"What is it—tell me exactly—what is it you demand for your silence, and that paper?"
Storms took a folded sheet of foolscap from his pocket, and handed it to Lady Rose, who made an attempt to read it, but her hand shook so violently that the lines mingled together, like seaweed on a wave.
"I cannot read it; tell me."
Storms took the paper which he had prepared for Sir Noel, and read it aloud. His hand was firm enough; the agitation that shook the frame of that brave, beautiful girl, reassured him. He was certain of her influence with Sir Noel.
"Land, free hunting, the house of a gentleman. I wonder he asks so little. Does he know what a life like that is worth to us?" she thought.
"There is one thing more," said Storms. "Those things I demand for my silence. The paper I only give up when Ruth Jessup is my wife."
Lady Rose seemed to waive the subject aside as an after-consideration.