With the greatest difficulty, Carey got him to let go the firm grasp he had of his legs; and which he seemed inclined to hold till he got his request granted.
"It isna by ony sic bribes as thae, Cuthbert Grandison, that I will be diverted from my purpose."
"What will please ye then?" cried Cubby, earnestly.
"A condition for yer ain benefit," replied Carey. "Have ye no sense enough to see that the money ye hoard in thae kists yields ye nae interest, and, besides, rins the risk o' bein taen frae ye the very moment it's kenned (an' its already suspected) ye hae't."
A groan was all the answer Cubby could give; for denying the money was now out of the question.
"Now I am to put you on a plan," continued Carey, "wharby ye may get a guid return for yer money, an' nae man can tak it frae ye."
Another groan evinced the agony of the sufferer.
"Hear," continued Carey, taking from his pocket the advertisement of Cubbertscroft. "Here is my father's property for sale on Wednesday next. It will, in all likelihood, be thrown awa. Tak yer siller to the bank o' Dumfries, an' lodge it there, then gang to the Hall, an' buy Cubbertscroft; an' wha will venture to rin awa wi' that frae ye?"
"But ye are wrang aboot the siller," cried Cubby—"there's no sae muckle o't as ye say."
"I will count it mysel," cried Carey, pointing to the ladder. "I heard ye count it before."