“Yes,” said Thickens, “and he deserves it.”
“We must not talk about our deserts, Thickens,” said Bayle gravely. “Now listen to me. I find I can realise in a very few days the sum of twenty-four thousand pounds.”
Thickens’s eyes dilated.
“Whatever amount of that is needed, even to the whole, I am going to place in Robert Hallam’s hands, to clear himself and redeem these securities, and then he must leave the town quietly, and in good repute.”
“In good repute?”
“For his wife’s sake, sir. Do you understand?”
“No,” said Thickens quietly. “No man could understand such a sacrifice as that. You mean to say that you are going to give up your fortune—all you have—to save that gambling scoundrel from what he deserves?”
“Yes.”
“But, Mr Bayle—”
“Silence! I have made my plans, sir. Now, Mr Thickens, you see that I am not going to defraud the customers of the bank, but to replace their deeds.”