"That's saying a great deal, my Lord,—a great deal," said Tifto, now in tears. "But I ain't said it all yet. He's here; in London!"
"Who's here?"
"Green. He's here. He doesn't think that I know, but I could lay my hand on him to-morrow."
"There is no human being alive, Major Tifto, whose presence or absence could be a matter of more indifference to me."
"I'll tell you what I'll do, my Lord. I'll go before any judge, or magistrate, or police-officer in the country, and tell the truth. I won't ask even for a pardon. They shall punish me and him too. I'm in that state of mind that any change would be for the better. But he,—he ought to have it heavy."
"It won't be done by me, Major Tifto. Look here, Major Tifto; you have come here to confess that you have done me a great injury?"
"Yes, I have."
"And you say you are sorry for it."
"Indeed I am."
"And I have forgiven you. There is only one way in which you can show your gratitude. Hold your tongue about it. Let it be as a thing done and gone. The money has been paid. The horse has been sold. The whole thing has gone out of my mind, and I don't want to have it brought back again."