“I think I can get them all hushed up.”
“But then there’s Goodhare,” whispered Sep, with a shudder. “He’ll have us both back if he wants to!”
“I think he will find it expedient to keep out of the way for the future. Now come, we haven’t much time.”
She held out her hand, assuming a tone of greater confidence than she felt; for she feared that at the last moment Sep might decline to part with the treasure entrusted to him. However, he looked at her outstretched hand, and then, irresolutely, tremblingly drew out from a pocket of his coat first one flat packet, and then another.
Deborah could scarcely refrain from snatching them, or keep her fingers from quivering, as she took them and hid them in the front of her own dress, under her mantle. Sep felt a-trembling as soon as he had given them up, and buried his face in his hands.
“And now,” said she, softly, “I must find Lord St. Austell. He went out at that door, following Goodhare.”
Sep started up wildly. “Following Goodhare!” he almost shouted. Then, sinking his voice to a hoarse whisper, he stammered out: “You musn’t hope anything from Lord St. Austell, then. If Goodhare took him where I expect he did, he would never let him out alive. Goodhare hates him, and he is more devil than man!”
Deborah rose quickly and quietly and opened the door into the yard.
“Take me to this place at once,” said she.
Remonstrance with her was useless. With staggering steps Sep accompanied her along the outer passage.