"Your bond for five hundred pounds."
"Which, as you doubtless know, would be worth precisely nothing."
"If I am willing to take the risk, that is my concern. Look you, Mr. Vavasour, I will be open with you. I have no spite against you, nor any great liking for this business, being in it solely for the money to be made by it—and money I must have. If you agree to my terms, Lord Sheffield is rid of you for six or nine months, or, it may be, a year. I keep faith with him so far that he has value for his money. But you return safe and sound, which is value for yours. Nay, hear me out. If you refuse my offer, Frank Vavasour will be dead and buried and mourned awhile by his friends; and even if you should contrive to return to England, nobody—not even your nearest relative—will believe that you are he."
"Bah! Would you persuade me you are Satan himself, to work such wonders? And, if you are, I make no compact with the devil."
I spoke more boldly than my inward feeling warranted, for I began to fear the man. He took no offence, as it seemed, but answered—
"Sleep on it. Night is a good counsellor."
A moment later, he asked if I desired more wine, and took up the bottle.
"You have not emptied this yet, I see."
He placed bottle and cup near me, made fast the door opening on the corridor, and joined his comrades in the next chamber, whom his presence appeared to check, for their talk and laughter became subdued. I drank the remainder of my wine, and began to pace the length of the room, endeavouring to fathom Boswell's designs; but could make nothing of his strange threats, inclining to think his mysterious language was mere gipsy rodomontade. In a short time I grew sleepy—extremely so—and threw myself on the couch, the absence of my bonds enabling me to stretch at my ease, and soon fell asleep.