"Because I know more of Robert Moncton than you do. To provoke his son to jealousy, he will take you into favour. If Theophilus has gone too far—he is so revengeful, so unforgiving—he may, probably, make you his heir."
"May God forbid!" cried I, vehemently.
Harrison laughed.
"Gold is too bright to betray the dirty channels through which it flows—and I feel certain, Geoffrey——"
A quick rap at the office-door terminated all further colloquy, and I rose to admit the intruder.
Harrison and I generally wrote in an inner, room, which opened into the public office; and a passage led from the apartment we occupied into Mr. Moncton's private study, in which he generally spent the fore-part of the day, and in which he received persons who came to consult him on particular business.
On opening the door which led into the public office, a woman wrapped closely in a black camblet cloak, glided into the room.
Her face was so completely concealed by the large calash and veil she wore, and, but for the stoop in the shoulders, it would have been difficult at a first glance to have determined her age.
"Is Mr. Moncton at home?" Her voice was harsh and unpleasant; it had a hissing, grating intonation, which was painful to the ear.
The moment the stranger spoke, I saw Harrison start, and turn very pale. He rose hastily from his seat and walked to a case of law-books which stood in a dark recess, and taking down a volume, continued standing with his back towards us, as if intently occupied with its contents.