“I can't see what these pieces are,” said Holmes, trying to peer through the darkness.
“Pay these people, Trover,” said she, “and be liberal with them. Remember from what fate they have saved you.” And as she spoke she handed him her purse. “We'll saunter slowly up to the village, and you can follow us.”
Trover called the men around him, and proceeded to settle their fare, while Holmes and his daughter proceeded at an easy pace inland.
“How much was there in your purse, Loo?” asked Holmes.
“Something under twenty Napoleons, papa; but it will be quite enough.”
“Enough for what, dear?”
“Enough to tempt poor Mr. Trover. We shall never see more of him.”
“Do you really think so?”
“I am certain of it. He was thinking of nothing else than how to make his escape all the time we were crossing the lake, and I, too, had no more pressing anxiety than how to get rid of him. Had I offered him a certain sum, we should have had him for a pensioner as long as he lived, but by making him steal the money I force him to be his own security that he 'll never come back again. It was for this that I persisted in acting on his fears in the boat; the more wretched we made him the cheaper he became, and when he heaved that last heavy sigh, I took ten Napoleons off his price.”
Holmes had to stop walking, and hold his hands to his sides with laughter. The device seemed to him about the best practical joke he had ever heard of. Then ceasing suddenly, he said,—