“Just hand me three and fourpence,” remarked Skinwell, with the most provoking coolness, “for informing you that by talking in that manner you are laying yourself open to a special action.”
“Do you mean to act the villain?” demanded Rowel, with increased passion.
“Three and fourpence, Doctor,” demanded Skinwell.
“Ay!—you 're a mean cold-blooded scoundrel,” continued the doctor, still more enraged.
Skinwell was somewhat aroused by this abuse, and replied in a more biting temper, “Why, if you really want to know whether I intend to blow you to the world, as you call it, I answer—yes. I am resolved to expose your villany, and compel you to do justice in spite of yourself.”
“Oh, very well!” cried the doctor, rising from his seat, and striding towards the door, “that is enough—say no more—that is all I want. Now I know my man. But I'll tell you what,” and he turned half round in the doorway, and looked at his antagonist with the fierce malignity of a demon, “if physic can't beat law to the dogs at last, I 'll grant you free grace to drain me to my last penny.” So saying, he hurried out of the house.
The words which the lawyer had uttered seemed, like an echo a hundred times repeated, to ring in Rowel's ears as a sound that would never die away. He hurried along the village street more by instinct than present knowledge, in the direction of the lawyer's house. On reaching it, he knocked at the door, which was opened by Fanny.
“Young woman,” said he, “you remember what I told you when I first saw you at Whinmoor? You have not mentioned a word to any one? Then take care not to do so on any account. You are in danger. If Skinwell asks you anything, do not utter a word, or the design I had in view for you is ruined. If he tells you anything, do not believe him;—no matter what it is, tell him you do not believe it. He is a scoundrel,—an unmitigated villain,—and if you stay longer in this house you will be ruined. Trust none of his promises. He may pretend that he wants to marry you, but do not believe him; and if he says he knows something about you and your family, take no notice of it; for it will be done merely to get from you what I have told you to do. He may perhaps even go so far as to say he knows where your father is—”
“My father!” exclaimed Fanny. “Why, who knows my father?”
“I say he may say so,” replied Rowel, “for he will say anything; but you must not believe him. The truth is, he has found out that I am doing something for you, and he is determined to stop it if he can. But do not let him talk to you. You must leave this house as early as possible. Be cautious, above all things. I will soon see you again.” And the doctor walked away.