"You admit you are Farren?"
"Assuredly so—to you. I would admit anything—to you. You are to me a cypher, Mr. Jabez Crane; a plaything, if I so wish—for I hold you here—here, in the hollow of my hand. Do you begin to comprehend?"
"Oh yes, I comprehend; you are Barton's spy. You know my secret. But why should you want to betray me? We have been friends. I have done you no harm. You've nothing to gain by it. Why round on me?"
"I have no wish to, friend."
"That's a lie, and you know it. You have been watching me—tracking me here, there, and everywhere, like the dirty spy you are!"
"So you take me for a Judas? Have I asked you for money?"
"No!"
"Then take my warning, friend, and turn me not into an enemy—take further warning from me too, and go. You have the money now. And there is danger, I can tell you—danger for you here!"
"Danger—yes, there is danger, thanks to you. But understand, Mr. Farren, that neither you nor living man ever takes Jabez Crane alive. Oh, I know you for what you are, you fawning Judas. Look out for yourself. If you do your devil's work, and I have to shuffle off, it will not be alone. I have made it all secure. I've not forgotten to execute my last will and testament, and all I have to leave I've left to you. Do you know what kind of legacy it is, Mr. Farren? I'll tell you—the legacy of death! When the end comes to me it will mean your arrest."
"Arrest, friend? For what should they arrest me?"