"As to that," cried Griscombe, "Heaven is your judge, and not I. As for me, I begin to perceive a glimmer of light through these mysteries that have been gathering about me during these last few days, and I declare to you that I will have no more concern either in you or in your secrets. How is it possible," he exclaimed, "that I have come to be the partaker in the consequences of that rapine and of murder in which you and your brother were doubtless one time so guilty? No: I will have no more to do with you!"
"And would you," cried the other, "desert me in such extremity as this? Then at least have some pity upon my innocent daughter. We live a life in this place without a friend or an intimate,—almost, I may say, without an acquaintance. To whom am I to confide her in a time of such mortal danger as this? Am I to take her with me in my flight? And what if my fate overtakes me upon such a journey,—what, then, would become of her?"
Upon this plea Griscombe stood for awhile with downcast eyes, every shadow of expression banished from his countenance. As with an inner vision he beheld Miss Desmond as he had seen her but a little while before,—innocent, beautiful, radiantly unconscious of the doom that was about to fall upon the house—and his heart was wrung at the thought of such hideous misfortunes falling upon her sinless life. "Sir," he said at last, "your appeal has reached me. What is it you would have me to do? For your daughter's sake I will assist you in so far as my abilities may extend."
"I would have you," said the miserable man, "convey my daughter, upon your return to New York, in the post-chaise which brought you hither. With her I will send a quantity of jewels similar to those which you brought to me. These I will place in a strong box, and that again in a portmanteau of such a convenient size that you can easily take it into the post-chaise with you. These jewels comprise a large part of my fortune; and with them my daughter, should she be called upon to be separated forever from her unhappy father, can easily live in affluence and luxury. She, together with this treasure, you are to carry to a M. de Troinville, who has for a long while been the agent both of my brother and of myself, and who is under considerable obligation to us. With you I shall send to that gentleman a letter of full instruction; and, as soon as you have delivered that and my daughter into his hands, your responsibility shall be at an end, and you will have the satisfaction of knowing that you have relieved the anxiety of one who has probably only a day or maybe a few hours to live, and who would otherwise have found his last moments upon earth to have been blighted."
"So be it," said Griscombe, after a moment or two of consideration. "I accept the commission."
"Sir," said Mr. Desmond, "you have won the eternal gratitude of the most miserable man upon the earth." And, as he spoke, he made as though he would have embraced our hero.
"Nay," said Griscombe, "I do not choose to accept your caresses. You owe me no gratitude; for, upon my word, I declare that what I do is only for the sake of your daughter, and that, except for her, I would leave you to a fate which in no wise concerns me, and which, from your own confession, you appear in no small degree to have merited. Prepare your letter to M. de Troinville; and in the mean time, by your leave, I will wait in some other apartment of your house than this."
"You are," said Mr. Desmond, "neither polite nor sympathetic. But let it pass. I find myself obliged to accept your services, however unwillingly they may have been offered."