‘Humph!’ said Slyme, thoughtfully. ‘I couldn’t hope to disgrace him into anything when you have shot so far ahead of me though. I forgot that.’
Jonas repeated the same look and gesture.
‘Jack!’ said Slyme.
‘Hallo!’ returned his man.
‘Go down to the door, ready for the coach. Call out when it comes. I’d rather have you there. Now then,’ he added, turning hastily to Jonas, when the man was gone. ‘What’s the matter?’
Jonas essayed to rise.
‘Stop a bit,’ said Slyme. ‘It’s not so easy when your wrists are tight together. Now then! Up! What is it?’
‘Put your hand in my pocket. Here! The breast pocket, on the left!’ said Jonas.
He did so; and drew out a purse.
‘There’s a hundred pound in it,’ said Jonas, whose words were almost unintelligible; as his face, in its pallor and agony, was scarcely human.