Hugo reflected a moment. A gulf seemed to open before him, and just as his uncle was nearing death all his schemes seemed in danger of failure. This must be prevented at all hazards.
"Fitzgerald!" he said, in an altered tone, "this thing can yet be arranged. You have gained an advantage over me, I grant, and I am prepared to make it worth your while to keep this thing hushed up. What are your terms?"
"Why should I name terms when you have once treacherously gone back on your word?"
"I will not do so again."
"Do you want me to kill the boy?"
"No! Let him live, but never let him suspect who he is."
"And for this you will give me—how much?"
"Five thousand dollars!" answered Hugo, after a brief pause.
"It is a good sum, but your uncle's property amounts to a quarter of a million, at least."