"What inducement do you require, Senor Meriaz?"
"Well," he exclaimed, greedily, passing his mottled tongue over his still more mottled lips, "it is quite true that Mr. Pierrepont paid me the five thousand today to preserve the secret; will you double that amount if I break my word and return his five thousand to him?"
"No. In the first place, the money did not belong to him. It belonged to the man who has been murdered, and whose murderer I intend to bring to the gallows, as he would desire. As his affianced wife, I tell you that you may keep the money, and to it I will add another five thousand if you tell me the story Leith Pierrepont wished concealed, if you will tell me how Olney Winthrop came to his death; but not a dollar will I add to that amount."
For a moment Meriaz hesitated, then leaning forward, with his beady eyes fixed upon her, he exclaimed:
"I may trust you?"
"I give you Miss Chalmers as my reference," she answered, coldly.
He leaned further forward, placing his arms upon his knees. He reminded her of some treacherous animal about to spring upon his helpless prey, and somehow she felt as she imagined she would if she were alone in a forest, the victim of some repulsive beast.
"You want to know how Olney Winthrop came to his death," he said, speaking in a half-hoarse whisper, whose effect he had counted, "and you offer me five thousand dollars to tell you the story Leith Pierrepont would have concealed?"
"I do."