“I mean this. You was right, Gregory, I didn’t do the burglary, but I knowed about it, and I can tell you all an’ more than you want to know. There’s twelve hundred and fifty pounds for the men who recover that Giffard silver; an’ it can be done. But what I ax you three men is this—If I put that money into your pockets, will you do something for me?”
“That’s impossible,” answered Corder, firmly. “I know what’s in your mind, my lad; and ’tis natural enough that it should be; but you might so soon ask them handcuffs on your wrist to open without my key as ask me to help you now, if that’s your game.”
“It isn’t,” answered Daniel. “Afore God, no such thought as axing you to let me go comed in my mind. ’Twould be like offering you three men five thousand pound to let me off. I wouldn’t dream of such a thing. You’re honourable, upright chaps, an’ I respect you all a lot too much to do it. Five thousand pound divided into three be only a dirty little sixteen hundred or so apiece. Though, as a matter of fact, there was far more took than that. But I never meant no such thing. I’m booked for trial, an’ you can’t help me. No, you can’t help me—none of you. ’Tis my poor little wife I be breaking my heart for.”
A fly crawled up to the inn as Daniel spoke and stopped at the door. Looking out through the open window, he caught a passing glimpse of Minnie herself under the lamp at the door, and heard her voice. She paid the driver and he went into the bar; but Daniel knew that Minnie was now walking alone across the Moor to Hangman’s Hut.
“Go on,” said Gregory. “Let’s hear all you’ve got to say. No harm in that. My heart bleeds for your mother, not your wife, Sweetland. Little did she think that she was bringing such a bad lot into the world the day you was born.”
“I’m not so bad neither. Anyway, time’s too short to be sorry now. ’Tis like this. It’s not in my mind to ax anything for myself; but I pray for a bit of mercy for my wife. If I swing over this, what becomes of her? She’ve got but fifty-five pounds in the world.”
“’Tis enough to keep her till an honest man comes along an’ marries her,” said Bartley. “For that matter, Titus Sim will wed her if the worst overtakes you, Daniel.”
“You put it plain,” answered the prisoner, “an’ I thank you for it, Luke. All the same, they may not hang me; an’ if I get penal servitude, Minnie can’t marry any other man. Now the reward for finding out that burglary job be twelve hundred an’ fifty pounds, as Mr Corder says. That divided betwixt the three of you would be four hundred odd apiece. An’ I want to know just what you’ll do about it. In exchange for the money an’ fame an’ glory this job will bring you men, I want two hundred pounds—not for myself, but for my poor girl. Ban’t much to ax, an’ not a penny less will I take. That’s my offer, an you’d best to think upon it. If you refuse, I shall make it to somebody else.”
Silence followed. Then Dan spoke again.