"Well said, Michael," exclaimed Greenwood. "Now, Tomlinson, your decision?"
"It is a fearful alternative—and yet—and yet, it is preferable to infamy—disgrace——"
"Then you agree?"
"And if I agree—where are the means of executing the scheme? Who will rob—or affect to rob the premises?"
"That must be arranged by yourselves. The back of this house looks upon a court. The thieves can have effected their entrance through these parlour windows: the parlour doors will be found forced; the safe will have been broken open. Nothing can be more simple."
"Yes—I know how to manage it all," exclaimed old Martin, who had been ruminating more seriously than ever for the last few moments. "Mr. Greenwood, you have saved the honour of the bank, which I love as if it was my own child;"—and the cashier wrung the hand of the member of Parliament with a warmth indicative of an amount of feeling which he had never been known to demonstrate before.
"Well—I have given you the hint—do you profit by it," said Greenwood; and with these words he departed.
And as he drove back to the West-End, he said to himself, "Tomlinson will now be completely in my power, and will never dare confess the real nature of the transaction relative to Count Alteroni's fifteen thousand pounds. According to the first arrangement proposed, a bullying counsel or an astute Commissioner might have wormed out of him the exact truth; whereas, now—now his lips are silenced on that head for ever!"
The moment Greenwood had left the bank-parlour, old Michael accosted Tomlinson, and said "Have you full confidence in me?"