"I promised nothing of the sort. Now, tell me what you saw of these crimes--for there are two: sacrilege and murder--and then come to Heathton. Behave well, keep Mrs. Warrender's secret, and you shall have fifty pounds and your freedom. Otherwise----" Alan held up his finger.
"Oh, Mr. Thorold!" cried the widow, wringing her hands, "if this horrible man comes to Heathton, I am lost!"
"Indeed no! He will hold his tongue. Won't you?"
"You seem very sure of it," said the professor of eloquence.
"Of course I am. You see, Mr. Gramp, I have the handling of the late Mr. Marlow's money, and I can buy your silence."
"Not for fifty pounds."
"We shall see about that. It's either fifty pounds or the police. Choose!"
Cicero folded his arms, and bowed his head.
"I will take the money," he said, "and I will hold my tongue--while I am at Heathton giving my evidence. Afterwards----" he looked at his sister.
"Afterwards," said Alan smoothly, "we will make other arrangements. Now tell your story."