ORMSBY REFUSES
Ormsby greeted Dick’s mother with marked coldness. He extended to her the politeness accorded to an enemy before a duel. He motioned her to a seat near his desk, and took up a position on the hearthrug. His pale face was hard set, and his dark eyes gleamed. His hands were clenched behind his back, and his whole attitude was that of a man holding himself in check. The very mention of the name of Swinton was enough to fill his brain with madness.
“I have come to pay you some money,” said Mrs. Swinton quietly, as she unfastened the catch of her muff bag. “Here is a check for seven thousand dollars. It is the sum required by you to make good the discrepancy in my father’s account with your bank. He is an old man in his dotage; and, as he repudiates his checks, you must not be the loser.” She spoke in a dull voice—a monotone—as though repeating a lesson learnt by heart.
Ormsby was rather staggered. How Mrs. Swinton could raise seven thousand dollars without getting it from Herresford was a mystery, and he had never expected the miser to disgorge. 298
“May I ask you why you bring this money?” he demanded, at last.
“I have explained.”
“I hope you don’t think, Mrs. Swinton, that we are going to compound a felony, just because the criminal’s family pursues the proper course, and reimburses our bank.”
“Of course I do. When the money is paid, my family affairs are no business of yours.”
“A warrant is out for your son’s arrest, Mrs. Swinton, and we shall have him to-night. It pains me exceedingly to have to take this course, but—”
“You hypocrite!” she cried, starting up. “You are taking an unfair advantage of your position. You are playing a mean, contemptible trick. You are jealous of my son. Your action is not that of a man, but of a coward. Are you not satisfied with having robbed him of his wife that you must hound him down?”