"Certainly not," was the instant reply.
"He's a mischievous devil," said Mr. Griswold, doubtfully. "And of course you don't want to have things said about you in newspapers, however obscure. Might get sent over to England. Yes, he's a mischievous devil when he turns ugly. What do you say now?—for the sake of peace and quietness—a little matter of a couple of hundred dollars—and nobody need know anything about it——"
"Give a couple of hundred dollars to that infernal scoundrel?—I will see him d——d first!" said Vincent, with a decision that was unmistakeable.
"There's no reason why you should give him a cent—not the slightest," the lawyer went on. "But some people do, to save trouble. However, you will not be remaining long in this city; I see it announced that you are going on a tour through the United States and Canada."
"The fact is, Mr. Griswold," said Vincent, "I came along—at this unholy hour, for which I hope you will forgive me—not to ask you what I should do about that fellow's threats—I don't value them a pin's-point—but merely to see if you knew anything about those two——"
"The De Lara's?"
"Yes, what does he do, to begin with? What's his occupation—his business?"
"Nominally," said Mr. Griswold, "he belongs to my own profession; but I fancy he is more mixed up with some low-class newspapers. I have heard, indeed, that one of his sources of income is levying black-mail on actresses. The poor girls lose nerve, you understand: they won't fight; they would rather 'see' him, as the phrase is, than incur his enmity."
"Well, then, what I want to know still more particularly," the young man proceeded, "is this: is Mrs. de Lara supposed to take part in these pretty little plans for obtaining money?"
The lawyer smiled.