Johnson listened to the man without moving a muscle. He looked him calmly in the face.
"Captain Shackel," said he, coldly, "allow me to inform you that there is not a word of truth in the statement by means of which you propose to blackmail me. I visited London the first time to inquire if you had seen my ward, who I thought might have gone to you for shelter. You denied that she had been with you, so, believing your statement, I returned to Grimleigh. Two weeks after her disappearance, I was in great trouble about some money I owed. From some unknown person I received my several bills, receipted. They were placed on this very desk one day when I was out visiting. Much astonished, I went to London and saw my creditors, to learn, if possible, who had paid the money. They one and all refused to inform me, as they had promised my benefactor not to reveal his name. Failing in this attempt, I returned for the second time to Grimleigh, and since then I have hardly left my home. Tera has been murdered, but I do not know who murdered her. I myself am wholly innocent. I never saw the pearls after the night she disappeared. I was never near Hatton Garden. I know nothing of the pawnshop you mention or of its Jew owner. The name of Moss is unknown to me. In short, Captain Shackel, I deny your accusation."
Jacob, in no wise put about by this denial, winked his one eye and became vulgarly familiar.
"That's right, sonny, you stick to it," said he; "it's your only chance of saving your neck. See here, though, you Johnson," he added, in a more threatening tone, "I hold you in the hollow of my hand. I've got a schooner of sorts as I'm sailing round the Horn in, to do trading business in the Islands. It's taken all my savings to buy her; now I want money to buy stores and fit her out properly with rations for the voyage. That money I came here to get from you. Those pearls were worth a mint of coin, and I'm going to have my share--say, five 'undred quid. Pay me that, and I'll tie up my tongue about your killin' the gal and sellin' her pearls. But you refuse me, my son, and I guess you'll be singing psalms in quod this time to-morrow."
"There is the door, captain; you can go;" and the minister, pale, but firm, rose to dismiss his visitor.
"You won't part?" urged the little man, shuffling to his feet.
"I won't pay your blackmail, sir. Your attempt to levy it is, I may remind you, of itself a criminal offence."
"What's murder, then?" asked the captain. "Well, I guess I ain't a hard man, and it's true this thing's come on you sudden-like. Me and Finland 'ull give you twelve hours to think about it."
"Finland! Is he with you?"
"I guess so. First mate. He was coming here to smash you for murdering his sweetheart, but I sent him off to his uncle Carwell, and come myself in his place, being milder-like. Well, what's to be done?"