“Can’t I? I saw the moon come out and shine on her dead face, and I heard her curse ye before she died. I saw her blood run over yer hand and stain yer shirt and the coat ye wore. Where is that coat now, master; ye have not worn it since?” And again the groom laughed.
Henderson shuddered; this man had stolen the coat then, he thought, and was thus able to produce this damning evidence against him.
“How much—?” he began.
“How much will I take to hold my tongue?” continued Reid, as Henderson hesitated and paused.
“Why, a man should pay a long price for his life anyhow? I heard ye offer poor Elsie two thousand pounds to settle yer debt to her, and I’ll take not a penny less.”
Henderson did not speak. Great drops of dew broke out on his forehead; he felt powerless in his servant’s hands. He looked in the groom’s sharp face, and the man knew he could make his own terms.
“I call it cheap,” he said, “dirt cheap; two thousand pounds for yer life. Well, master, think it over, and if yer wise ye’ll not think long—I’ve told ye my price.”
Henderson made no answer; he turned away and went staggering to the house like a drunken man. He knew now what his position would be, and that this man was his master for his whole life.