Hugh watched him closely.
"The usual formality," he said, lightly; "nothing more."
Paul passed his eye rapidly over the deed. Then he turned to the lawyer.
"Is this the fourth or fifth mortgage that has been drawn?" he inquired, still holding the parchment before him.
"Really, I can't say—I presume it is the—really, I hardly remember—"
Mr. Bonnithorne's suavity of tone and customary smile broke down into silence and a look of lowering anxiety.
Paul glanced steadfastly into his face.
"But I remember," he said, with composure more embarrassing than violence. "It is the fifth. The Holme farm was first, and then came Goldscope. Hindscarth was mortgaged to the last ear of corn, and then it was the turn for Coledale. Now, it's the Ghyll itself, I see, house and buildings."
Hugh Ritson's face underwent a change, but his tone was unruffled as he said:
"If you please, we will come to business." Then with a sinister smile, "You resemble the French counsel—you begin every speech at the Creation. 'Let us go on to the Deluge,' said the judge."