"News, what news?" asked Leicester, sternly.
"That the captain is to be made a baronet, and that he is to marry his ward, Miss Mildmay."
"It is false!" said Leicester, grasping Mr. Thaxton's arm, madly.
"Very likely," said Mr. Dockett. "They say nothing's true as is in the papers. This was in all of 'em yesterday morning, and, with no offence, I'll bet there's something in it, gentlemen."
"It must not be," said Leicester, groaning. "I would rather see her in her grave. She may marry Fitz, or any honest man, so that she is happy, but not that scoundrel, not that villain! Look you, sir," he said, turning suddenly to Mr. Dockett and laying a hand upon his arm to emphasize his words, "you will gain a hundred pounds by my arrest. Now, I say nothing about my own innocence or my guilt, I say no more on that score; but I say this, and this gentleman will bear me out, I will give you one thousand pounds if you will take the trouble to investigate the statement you heard from this man. One thousand pounds! It is a fair sum! You are not to prove my innocence—let that go, but to prove his guilt; any part will do, so that it prevents this marriage."
"Agreed on," said Mr. Dockett. "I'll take the contract, on condition that everything is left in my hands."
Mr. Thaxton conferred with Leicester for a few minutes, and then Leicester answered:
"We agree to trust you; and if the reflection will have any weight in keeping you faithful and honest, unswerving in your task, I would have you remember that in trusting you I do so wholly, being tied hand and foot in jail."
"Exactly," said Mr. Dockett, with a queer twinkle of the eye. "Then, as we are agreed, I'll get you to allow me to drive."
And he took the reins from Mr. Thaxton's hands, calling to Stumpy: