"I have thought," answered Sir William, sternly; "you may retire, I say."
The man bowed, and left the room; and Sir Winslow murmured, "That is done--I will not live in fear. Death is better."
"There is a man at the hall-door wishes to speak with you, Sir;" said a footman, entering.
"I am busy," said his master; "I cannot be disturbed--Who is he?"
"I do not know, Sir," answered the servant; "a tall, strong man, well dressed enough; but with a face like a gipsey, or a mulatto--he said he must and would see you, as he had business of importance to speak about."
"Well, if he must and will see me, send him in," said the baronet; "I think I will soon dispatch his business."
The man retired, and soon returned with the same personage whom Chandos had seen speaking with her whom we have called hitherto Sally Stanley, in the park.
"What do you want with me?" asked Sir William Winslow, fiercely.
His visitor paused till the door was shut, and then replied, in a rude, familiar tone, "I want a little money, Sir William; that's the truth. But if I get money, I can give money's worth."
Sir William Winslow's heart sunk. "Indeed!" he said; "pray, what can you give?"