"Mr. Stanley," I said, "Lady Dennisford says that you are willing to abandon your persecution of my guest for a consideration."
He smiled upon us slowly.
"Persecution," he remarked thoughtfully, "well, it is a harmless word.
Mind, I admit nothing. But I am willing to hear what you have to say."
"This first, then," I declared. "Will you tell me why, as a magistrate of this county, I should not be justified in signing a warrant for your apprehension?"
"On what charge?" he asked.
"Conspiracy to murder," I answered.
He seemed to consider the suggestion with perfect seriousness.
"Yes!" he admitted, "it could be done. Putting myself in your place I should even imagine that it might be the most obvious course. But have you considered what the probable result would be?"
"It would keep you out of mischief for a time, at any rate."
"Not for a day," he answered softly. "In the first place, the slenderness of your evidence, which, by the by, when the affair came to trial would disappear altogether, would necessitate bail; and, in the second, were I to be swept off the face of the earth, there are thousands ready to take my place. Besides, no man likes to make himself the laughing stock of his friends and the press; and, forgive me, Mr. Courage, if I remind you that that is precisely what would happen in your case."