“What does it contain?” asked the young fellow. “One moment before you tell me. If it is anything detrimental—anything that would interfere with the happiness of this young girl, you can put your precious paper back in your pocket and light your pipe with it.”
“Right, quite right; your caution does credit to your heart and honor, my dear Percy,” said Spenser Churchill. “I say nothing of the injustice you’ve done to me by your suspicion. I forgive you! In a word, this is a little bond by which you undertake three things. To marry the young lady when I shall request you, and not till then; to keep the marriage secret until I give you permission to disclose it, and on your wedding day to pay me ten thousand pounds, or give me a bond for that amount.”
“Is that all?” demanded Percy Levant, staring at him with knitted brows.
“Yes; and I don’t think the conditions over hard. Consider, my dear Percy; I don’t think you would have a chance of knowing who the young lady is without I tell you, you certainly haven’t of marrying her without my assistance; as to the secrecy of the affair—why, that is not a great hardship; and for ten thousand pounds, believe me, my dear Percy, that it will be but a bagatelle to the man who shall marry my ward.”
“She will be very rich then?”
“Very rich.”
“How am I to know that this is not a trick of yours, my good Churchill?—that I may marry this protégée of yours, and wake up to find that it is ‘beggar mated to beggar’?”
Spenser Churchill nodded a smiling approval.
“A very proper question, very proper. If you will look over this bond, you will see that the payment of the ten thousand pounds is contingent upon the young lady’s becoming possessed of at least twenty thousand a year. Do me the favor of perusing it; it is very short and very simple.”
“And very sweet,” said Percy, and he rapidly ran over the paper. “I see you have left a blank where the young lady’s name should go.”