“Fifty. Never a one less.”
Samuel sprang up from his seat, and, coming round the table, stood over her.
“Look here,” he said in a savage whisper, “you’re pushing this game too far: if you’re a wise woman you’ll take the forty and go, or—”
“Or what?”
“Or I’ll twist what I want to know out of that black heart of yours, and not a farthing shall you get for it perhaps you’ve forgotten that the door is locked and we are alone in the house. Yes, you might scream till you brought the roof down, but nobody would hear you; and scream you shall if I take hold of you.”
Mrs. Gillingwater glanced at his face, and read something so evil on it, and in the lurid eyes, that she grew frightened.
“Very well,” she said, as unconcernedly as possible, “I won’t stand out for a tenner between friends: down with the cash, and you shall have it.”
“Ah! ma’am, you’re afraid of me now I can feel it and I’ve half a mind to beat you down; but I won’t, I’ll stand by my word. Now you write that address upon this piece of paper and I’ll get the coin.” And rising he left the room by the door near the fireplace, which he took the precaution of locking behind him.
“The murdering viper!” reflected Mrs. Gillingwater; “I pinched his tail a little too much that time, and I sha’n’t be sorry to find myself outside again, though there’s precious little chance of that until he chooses, as he’s locked me in. Well, I must brazen it out now.” And somewhere from the regions of her ample bosom she produced the fragment that she had torn off Mrs. Bird’s letter, on which was written the address and a date.
Presently Samuel returned holding a small bag of money in his hand, from which he counted out forty sovereigns.