“What does the Brotherhood demand?” Caruth’s tones were firmer now. Hope had begun to glimmer.
“The Brotherhood has fashioned a tool for its use; you want that tool. The Brotherhood will not—dare not—give it to you. But the Brotherhood is poor, and you are rich. It will sell it to you—at a great price. What will you give?”
Caruth moved restlessly. It was shocking to him that Marie should be made a subject of bargain and sale. “I cannot chaffer over such a subject,” he cried. “Tell me what you want, and I will pay it if it is in my power. You say right. I am rich—not rich like many of my countrymen, but rich by ordinary standards. Tell me what you want, and I will pay it if I can.”
“The Brotherhood wants a million dollars.”
Caruth did not hesitate. “You shall have it,” he answered. “But you will have to give me time to get it for you. I have not a tithe of the sum in ready cash. I shall have to go to New York and sell property. It may take two months. I will give you my note for the sum at two months if you will take it.”
Lermantoff bowed. “We will take it,” he answered.
“And—and—you will trust me? I may take her away with me?”
“Assuredly! But the Brotherhood trusts no one; it has no need to do so. Marie Fitzhugh will be as much within its reach in New York as she is in this house. No one can betray or deceive the Brotherhood and live to enjoy it.”
Caruth’s face grew stern. “I understand that this million dollars buys the lady’s release absolutely. You will give up all hold on her, all claim over her. You will tell her so, and release her from her vows in my presence?”
Lermantoff nodded. “That is the understanding,” he said. Turning, he said a few words to the man by his side, and that individual rose and went out. “I have sent for Marie,” he explained.