"Oh I am not hurt!" cried Tim; "she's not so bad as a bull."
"Now," said Chandos, entering the parlour, of which Lockwood already had possession, "I think I have at length the pleasure of seeing Mr. Scriptolemus Bond, alias Wilson, &c.; and I have to inform him that he must immediately produce all the scrip, bonds, and papers of all kinds belonging to Mr. Arthur Tracy."
"Who are you, Sir?" exclaimed Mr. Scriptolemus Bond, recovering himself a little. "What authority have you to force your way into my house? Where is your warrant or your staff? Do you suppose that without authority I--"
"You ask for authority, do you, Sir," said Chandos. "By so doing you will force me to seek it, and convey yourself to prison and to Van-Diemen's-Land. I was willing to spare you, if you thought fit to make restitution of that which you have wrongly taken from Mr. Tracy; but let me tell you that you have no choice but to do so instantly, and without hesitation, or go before a magistrate on a charge of robbery."
"Stay, stay," said Mr. Scriptolemus Bond; "let us talk about the matter quietly. Perhaps we can arrange it.--Betty, Betty, give me a glass of brandy."
"Not a drop," said Chandos, sternly: "the matter needs no arrangement. You have heard what I demand, and what are my intentions, and you have but to answer 'Yes,' or 'No,' to this plain question--Will you deliver up the papers?"
"But you are so hasty, so hasty," cried Mr. Bond. "For Heaven's sake, shut the door, and let us speak two words. First of all, I must know who you are, Sir; for one does not trust papers of consequence to a stranger. I have been very ill, Sir; or I should have seen Mr. Tracy before, and given the papers to himself. Very ill, indeed, I have been, with a nasty affection of the throat."
"You are likely to be troubled with a still nastier one," said Lockwood, drily.
"Mr. Bond," replied Chandos, "none of these evasions will serve your turn in the least. My name is Winslow, a friend of General Tracy and his brother. The fact of your having absconded is well known to everyone: officers are in pursuit of you; you have been publicly advertised in the newspapers; and I have nothing to do but to take you before a magistrate, in order to send you to jail. Once more, then, I ask you, Will you deliver the papers?"
"I don't see what good it would do me," said Mr. Scriptolemus Bond; "I must see my way clearly, Sir. Pray, are you one of the Winslows of Elmsly?"