"I think he will in any case?" said Vernon grimly.
"I think not, sir," said Dimsdale very distinctly. "Of course, Emily is all right, and this blackmailing accusation is a lie. All the same, Maunders, who is anxious to secure a position in Society and marry Ida--confound him, he never shall with my consent--will not wish the slightest breath of his being a possible natural child to get about."
"I should say nothing," said Vernon stiffly.
"Quite so. I never expected you would. But the mere probability of the business becoming known will make Maunders careful. He won't worry you again, as, judging you by his own iniquitous self, he will think you capable of betraying him. _Now_ can you see?"
"Yes. But Constantine knows that I would never speak."
"I daresay, because he thinks the bribe isn't enough. He believes as Peel did--or Walpole was it?--that every man has his price. He won't worry you, I tell you, if you give the merest hint to him of the matter. Not that you need to, for he will know about this blackmailing letter to-morrow."
Vernon recalled how Maunders had said that his aunt had detained him, and how he had suggested that she had something on her mind. "He doesn't know it at present, anyhow."
"No. Emily saw me before speaking to him. However, listen to the scheme I have in my mind to catch this Spider wretch. He is trying to blackmail me."
"Oh!" Vernon sat up and laughed. "How ridiculous. You of all men cannot be blackmailed, since your life is so open."
"No man's life is open," said Dimsdale drily; "and mine has its dark pages as everyone else's has. I have a secret; not a particularly bad one, it is true. Still, one that I should prefer to keep to myself."