"Haven't we offered enough?" cried young Peter.
"It's too dear at any price, I am afraid," I replied, and yet my heart went out toward Trevanion as I spoke.
"You are prepared to give up your old home, discharge your old servants, and become nameless then?" old Peter said, his ferrety eyes fastened on me all the while.
"Others would do it cheaper," I replied; "far cheaper. Tom Belowda's gang would attempt the work for a hundred guineas."
Young Peter lost his head as I spoke. "Could I trust the sweet maid with a gang of roughs?" he cried; "besides, we should place ourselves in their power, they would know our secrets."
"It would pay them not to tell."
"Aye, but a secret held by such ceases to be a secret."
I saw that my game was to hold back, and I continued to do so. The thought of retaining Trevanion grew dearer each minute, but I did not let them know.
"It's a difficult task," I suggested, still continuing to pace the room.