“There’s the cash, ma’am,” he said; “but before you touch it be so good as to hand me that bit of writing: no, you needn’t be afraid, I’ll give you the money as I take the paper.”
“I’m not afraid, Mr. Rock; when once I’ve struck a bargain I stick to it like an honest woman, and so, I know, will you. Never you doubt that the address is the right one; you can see that it is torn off the letter I read to you. Joan is there, and through the worst of her illness, so the party she’s lodging with wrote to me; and if you see her I hope you’ll give her my love.” As she spoke she pushed the scrap of paper to him with her left hand, while with her right she drew the shining heap of gold towards herself.
“Honest!” he said: “I may be honest in my way, Mrs. Gillingwater; but you are about as honest as other traitors who sell innocent blood for pieces of money.”
“What do you mean by that, Mr. Rock?” she replied, looking up from her task of securing the forty sovereigns in her pocket-handkerchief. “I’ve sold no innocent blood; I’d scorn to do such a thing! You don’t mean any harm to Joan, do you?”
“No, ma’am, I mean her no harm, unless it’s a harm to want to make her my wife; but it would have been all one to you if I meant to murder her and you knew it, so your sin is just as great, and verily the betrayers of innocent blood shall have their reward,” and he pointed at her with his long fingers. “I’ve got what I want,” he went on “though I’ve had to pay a lot of money for it; but I tell you that it won’t do you any good; you might as well throw it into the mere and yourself after it, as expect to get any profit out of that forty pounds, the price of innocent blood the price of innocent blood.” Then once more Samuel pointed at her and grinned maliciously, till to her fancy his face looked like that of the stone demon above him.
By now Mrs. Gillingwater was so frightened that for a moment or two she hesitated as to whether it would not be wiser to return the money and free herself from the burden of a dreadful thought. In the end her avarice prevailed, as might have been expected, and without another word she rose and walked towards the front door, which Samuel unlocked and opened for her.
“Good-bye,” he said, as she went down the passage.
“You’ve done me a good turn, ma’am, and now I’m sure that I’ll marry Joan; but for all that a day shall come when you will wish that your hand had been cut off before you touched those forty sovereigns: you remember my words when you lie a-dying, Mrs. Gillingwater, with all your deeds behind you and all the doom before.”
Then the woman fled through the storm and the night, more terrified than ever she had been in her life’s day, nor did the gold that she clasped to her heart avail to comfort her. For Rock had spoken truth; it was the price of innocent blood, and she knew it.