The stranger smiled again the some cold smile. "The mortgagor wishes to withdraw the mortgage," he said.
"He may do so—in fifteen days," answered Balladhoo.
"That will suffice. It would be cruel to prolong a painful interview."
Then, with a glance toward Christian, as he sat convulsed with distress that he was unable to conceal, the stranger added, in a hard tone:
"Only, the mortgagor came to have reasons to think that perhaps the deed had been drawn without your knowledge."
Balladhoo handed back the document with a nerveless hand. He looked again through dim eyes at the stranger, and said quietly, but with an awful inward effort, "You have my answer—I knew of it."
The recording angel set down the words in the Book of Life to the old man's credit in heaven. They were not true.
The stranger bowed low and retired.
Christian leaped up and took his father by both hands, but his eyes were not raised to the troubled face.
"This is worse than all," he said, "but God knows everything. He will make me answer for it."