"Ah, I don't mind Mr. Horton knowing our private transactions," said Bill; "I asked for the loan of a paltry thousand dollars, and you refused me. Now, considering all these things, I thought this was rather shabby conduct, so I've discharged myself from your employment, and I calculate you'll have to look out for another overseer."
Augustus Horton was prepared to see the attorney resent the insolence of this speech, but to his surprise Silas seemed only anxious to conciliate Bowen.
"My dear William," he said, "you must remember that you have driven me rather hard lately. However, suppose you call upon me at my office. We'll settle matters there."
"We will settle matters, I reckon, Mr. Craig," answered Bowen, and a close observer might have detected a peculiar significance in his tone.
But Silas Craig was too much agitated to perceive this. He had not yet recovered from the extraordinary revealments made to him in his interview with Pauline Corsi. He felt like a man who walks blindfold upon the verge of a precipice, and who knows that every new footstep may hurl him to the gulf below.
Augustus and the attorney were leaving the quay when William Bowen called after them.
"I guess you were up to something down here, gents," he said; "you were looking after somebody, weren't you?"
"We were," answered Augustus; "we were in search of a runaway slave."
"The gal as you're after is Gerald Leslie's daughter, the Octoroon, I'll lay a hundred dollars?" cried Bowen.
"She is."