“I will not.”
“Know you who I am?”
“Too well, and by this time you should know me. There are ten pounds, Jacob Gray. Take them or none.”
“Has—has it come to this?” muttered Gray.
“It has,” said Learmont.
“Know you your dangers? What if I leave England suddenly and behind me is found—”
“Pshaw! You mean your confession,” interrupted Learmont, “I know you can, if it so please you, Jacob Gray, but you prefer money to revenge.”
“I do, but the money must be sufficient.”
“It is most ample.”
Gray looked in the calm pale face of the squire for a moment or two in silence, then he took the ten guineas which Learmont had laid upon the table, and with a bitterness of tone, which he in vain tried to conceal, he said,—