By serving Signora Barthelma he would gain a thousand guineas, half of which sum was already in his possession: he had therefore only another five hundred to receive—and it was possible that he might obtain as many thousands by striking a bargain with the nobleman and making a market of the secrets in his possession.
“Wherefore does your lordship ask me if I require money?” he demanded, by way of sounding the Earl’s intentions.
“Because I am rich enough to bribe you,” was the unhesitating response: for the nobleman had already formed a pretty accurate idea of the attorney’s character.
Green paused—reflected—and began to grow embarrassed. He knew not how to act—how much to demand—what terms to propose. Fearful of spoiling all, by carrying his extortionate views too high, he was likewise apprehensive of losing a large by agreeing to take a small amount.
The Earl guessed what was passing in his mind; and, pointing to writing materials that lay upon the table, he said, “Draw a cheque—and I will sign it.”
Mr. Green sat down, and with trembling hand wrote a draft for five thousand pounds.
Lord Ellingham glanced over it, and immediately affixed his signature to the document, inserting the names of his bankers in the corner.
“Stop!” ejaculated Mr. Hatfield, starting up in his couch: “Arthur, retain that cheque—let not the villain take it!”
And the Earl of Ellingham instantly obeyed this injunction; while Green turned, with a countenance livid through rage and disappointment, towards the invalid.
“Not one shilling shall this man extort from us!” continued Mr. Hatfield, powerfully excited. “His story is a fabrication! There are no documents in existence which can have revealed our family secrets to him. He has been sent hither by an enemy—and who that enemy is I can too well divine!”