"You lie, you damned scoundrel!" roared Aarons, beside himself with rage. "This is an invention to rob me. You think to get my money for a tissue of lies and then laugh at me for a credulous fool! A woman who could pick and choose among a dozen titles and fortunes many a felon in jail! If this is a joke, it is a dangerous one, Mister Parson, as you will find unless you return my money and make me a humble apology."
Goodridge had risen to his feet and, considerably sobered by this unexpected outburst, faced the infuriated man, pale beneath his vinous flush.
"Did you think to get such a secret as that from me and then rob me of the price?" he stuttered. "I swear by the Cross you accursed Jews despise, that I have told you the truth. Last Friday I married Prudence, widow of James Stuart Brooke," he sank his voice to a whisper, "to the highwayman, then under sentence to be hanged last Monday."
A gleam shot across Aarons' face. "Hanged last Monday!" he exclaimed. "Why, then, she's a widow again."
"That's what she expected to be, I'll be sworn," said Goodridge, with great significance. "But I said under sentence. That sentence was not carried out. He was reprieved and set at liberty, and my lady is still his wife."
A dark frown furrowed the usurer's brow. Before his eyes rose the vision of the beautiful object of his desire, with the diamonds he had thought to buy her with around her milky throat and the banknotes he had refused in payment lying unregarded on the table. He ground his teeth in impotent fury to think how he had been the dupe of his own fatuity, and a savage longing rose in him for revenge upon the disdainful beauty, whose astounding caprice had placed her out of his reach.
Tipsy as Goodridge was, he had been crafty enough to hold his tongue about Sir Geoffrey's part in the transaction, therefore it was not unnatural that Aarons' thoughts should turn to his erstwhile rival as a fit instrument of Prue's humiliation. To expose her, degrade her and, if possible, ruin her socially, he would spare neither money nor skill, but he felt himself unfit for the task; the blow from his hand might recoil upon himself and leave her unscathed. Besides, his ideas were, for the moment, too chaotic, and he was not the man to weaken his purpose by undue haste.
With a tremendous effort of his iron will, he subdued all outward expression of anger, and even called up a smile of grim amusement. Once more rising from the table, he bade his companion adieu without any further allusion to the twenty-five guineas, much to the reverend scamp's relief.
"Take my advice, Parson, and keep a silent tongue in your head," he remarked. "I will keep your secret, because it will not serve me to betray it, but if you take many more into your confidence, you may get into trouble."
With which he strode away, leaving Goodridge to the congenial society of the half-empty bottle.