"No! no! I meant not that. But--but--Lewis, what is to become of me?"
"Make money. If you cannot enter clubs here, or gamble, you can do so elsewhere. There is Bath--Tunbridge I do not suggest, for reasons--painful reasons--but there is Bath. Your cleverness with your--well!--fingers and hands--should stand you in good stead."
"It will be known at Bath as well as in London. I can show my face nowhere."
"What then to do? What are you thinking of? You are burdened with me, you see; you have to keep me for ever--until, at least, the Glastonbury affair is wiped away. You do it devilish ill; I live in a garret, you in sumptuous rooms; yet it is something. Am I to keep myself henceforth? Wherefore again I say, what are you thinking of doing?"
"At present I think but of one thing. Revenge! A terrible revenge!"
"On whom?"
"On him. That man, Barry. The man who is to marry the true Ariadne Thorne; the man who, since he appeared at the church, knew very well what was taking place and let me fall into the snare like a rat into a trap."
"It will be hard to do. He is a sea-captain, a brave, stalwart-looking fellow, and--he has beaten you once. He may do so again. Moreover, I do not think he would meet you if you challenged him."
"There are other ways. Men can be hired even nowadays to do the work. A month ago Lord D'Amboise's nose was slit to the bone--perhaps his Ariadne would not like Sir Geoffrey so much if he were equally disfigured! There are many ways if one will pay----"
"But you cannot pay," said Granger, with a swift glance at him, which the other saw well enough; "that is, unless you have a secret store. You would be like enough to have one, and keep the knowledge from me."