“That is a matter of financial judgment. You cannot expect me, who know what your business practices are, to have the same confidence in your financial orthodoxy that I have in Childs’? But I did leave a thousand in your hands, precisely in order to avoid remark.”
“And if ’twere a hundred thousand, you might have it back, with interest, to-morrow!” exclaimed Sir Francis with vehemence. “But that’s not our topic. You have something in your possession—you know what I mean—which you can’t object to making over to me, if we are friends.”
“Do you refer to the letter you wrote to me at the time”—
“Never mind the details! Yes, that’s the thing—that and the other papers. Many a wakeful night they’ve given me, since then!”
“I shall never surrender them to you,” said Grant, with decision. “Your only use for them would be to destroy them. They are my protection. My personal security, as well as my right to my property, might depend on them. Were you a far more trustworthy man than you have ever shown yourself to me, Frank Bendibow, I would not place myself so helplessly at your mercy.”
“You won’t let me have ’em, then?”
“No. I am immovable on that point. Remember, that the possession of those papers was the condition of my action when ... twenty years since. What influenced me then has at least as much weight now. You must be content with some other pledge than that. An honest man should ask no other pledge than an honest man’s word.”
“Look here, Grantley,” said the baronet, leaning forward and speaking in a husky and uneven voice: “I swear to you by all that’s sacred, if you’ll give me the papers, I’ll never take advantage of you. I’ll down on my knees and take what oath you please—I’ll do it this moment if you say so. Think, man! If anything should happen to you, and those things were found and read, what would become of me ... but it’s not that—’tis not myself I care about. If the worst comes to the worst, I should know how to deal with myself. But it’s that boy of mine—poor little fellow! I love him better than my own soul, or anything else. Sooner than he should ever think ill of his father, I’d let you shoot me dead here where I sit. All I live for is to make him happy, and leave him an honorable name and fair prospects. And if, after all I’ve hoped and done, he were to get wind of this—! I can’t endure to think of it!” cried the baronet, his voice breaking.
“You’re the same Frank Bendibow as in the old days,” said the other sadly. “I cared a great deal for you then, and I fear I’m not quite cured of it yet. The worst is, you make yourself believe your own deceptions. I won’t do what you ask; it would be to risk interests and obligations which needn’t be mentioned now. But perhaps we might make some compromise. The papers might be handed to some third person—to Mr. Fillmore, for example”—
“Fillmore be damned!” cried the baronet violently, striking the table with his fist, while his face flushed dark red. “I’ll have no compromises! I’ll trust neither you nor Fillmore! How do I know what plot you’ve been hatching against me this very day? Will you give me the papers, or not? Yes or no?”