Sir Geoffrey betrayed no anger.
"Blackmail?" he said enquiringly.
"Yes," said Melville. "The word is of your own choosing. Indeed, I'm indebted to you for putting the idea into my head. But a man who holds his tongue when it would pay him to talk may not be a blackmailer, but is most certainly a fool."
"You are not a fool," said Sir Geoffrey, "but you are a knave. Now, since I last had the misfortune of seeing you I've had time to think, and the result of my meditation may be of interest to you. Do you wish me to speak plainly?"
"Pray do."
"Well," said Sir Geoffrey, "when you first told me that Lady Holt was alive I confess I was very much surprised. I believed she had died years before; I don't know what she may have said to you, but it is the fact that the marriage was unhappy. Nobody about here had ever heard of it, and I wanted to save myself from being a topic of common gossip. What did I do? I accepted your story, and gave you some money to relieve her from the immediate distress in which you allege you found her. I suppose she received that sum?"
"Of course she did," said Melville.
"You know I distrust you entirely," Sir Geoffrey proceeded. "I had—still have—my doubts about your story, and I saw at once that you intended to convert my natural wish to avoid a scandal into money for yourself. Now I have resolved on my policy; I ought to have resolved on it at first. If Lady Holt needs permanent assistance, she must apply to Mr. Tracy, who will have my instructions. Tell her that from me. She is my wife, and she need have no fear in applying to her husband or his solicitor. But she will never have another farthing from me through you. I don't trust you; and if I did, I still should not employ you in this matter. And as for the blackmail, Melville, you have made a mistake in your calculations. I don't intend to be blackmailed."
"You don't mind your marriage becoming known?"
"I won't pay you to keep it secret," said Sir Geoffrey proudly. "The marriage was a failure, but it was a marriage, and I have nothing to be ashamed of in it. I was a fool to hesitate when you were down here last, but now I hesitate no more. I don't care what you do. Talk if you like. Sell the news to The Fairbridge Mercury for half-a-crown, if you can; I won't give you five shillings to suppress it. And now, sir, go!"