"You are insolent, sirrah."
"I am protecting myself. My lord, I must speak openly in this matter. How many promises have you made this morning? How many will you keep? I must not be pushed aside with such a promise."
Lord Fylingdale made no reply.
"I offer you a fortune of a hundred thousands pounds and more."
"I can now take this fortune without your assistance."
"With submission, my lord, you cannot. I know too much."
"What shall I write, then?"
"I am only reasonable. The girl's fortune when you have it will go the same way as your rents and woods have gone. Provide for me, therefore, before you begin to spend that money."
"Semple, I did not think you had so much courage. Learn that a dozen times I have been on the point of kicking you out of the house. Now," he rose, "give me paper and a pen—and I will write this promise."
Semple placed a chair at the table and laid paper and pen before it. "Let me presume so far as to dictate the promise," he said. "I undertake and promise that on the day after my marriage with the girl named Molly Miller, I will give Samuel Semple such a place as will provide him for life with a salary of not less than £200 a year. So—will your lordship sign it?"