"No; for if you had you would shew it to me."
"I will not. Why should I?"
"You cannot shew it to me! I thought as much."
"Hey! You think so, rye! Then if I haven't the bill, who has?"
"Mrs. Marshall; for I gave it to her to-day."
"It is--a lie! a lie!" Job was quite pale now; he saw that his last card was played, and that he had now very little hold--but still some--over Mrs. Marshall.
"It the truth. The bill was taken out of that pocket-book by Jenner in this room, and placed in hiding. I need not explain where. It is sufficient for you to know that the bill came into my possession, and that I gave it to my sister. Your teeth are drawn, tiger!"
The gypsy saw--that he was beaten, and began to whine. Although he already bore the impress of death, he did not want to be turned out to die in the open fields. "What do you want to know, honourable rye?" he asked, in fawning tones, for he wanted to propitiate the man who could make a tramp of him. "I will tell you all--all. You know so much that--"
"Now, then," interrupted Mr. Cass, impatiently, "where did you get the red pocket-book? Did you snatch it through this window at which I am sitting and kill Jenner to get it?"
"No, rye, I swear I did not. I was not near this house; I got the pocket-book from Jenner."