Mr. Scantlebray again endeavored to disappear behind the curtain.
“Come forward!” shouted Captain Cruel, striking the window-sill with the pistol.
Scantlebray jumped out of his retreat at once.
“What is the meaning of these two five pounds?”
“Well, sir—Captain—it is usual; every one does it. It is my—what d’y’ call it!—consideration for accepting the estimates.”
“And added to each, and then charged to the orphans, who pay you to act in their interest—so they pay wittingly, directly, and unwittingly, indirectly. Well for you and for Mrs. Scantlebray that I release you of your obligation to act for Mother Dunes—I mean Miss Trevisa.”
“Sir,” said Cargreen, “under the circumstances, under intimidation, I decline to sully my fingers with the business. I shall withdraw.”
“No, you shall not,” said Cruel Coppinger, resolutely. “You shall act, and act as I approve; and in the end it shall not be to your disadvantage.”
Then, without a word of farewell, he stood up, slipped the pistol back into his pocket, and strode away.
Mr. Cargreen had become white, or rather, the color of dough. After a moment he recovered himself somewhat, and, turning to Scantlebray, with a sarcastic air, said—