“The coffers are all right, I perceive,” remarked Lovel, as he set down the lamp upon the table. “I sha’n’t be sorry when they are gone,” he added, with a laugh. “They have been a great source of anxiety to me.”
“I daresay they have,” replied Xit. “Your office wouldn’t suit me at all, Master Lovel.”
“Wherefore not?” demanded the other.
“Because my honesty would never be proof against the temptation I should be exposed to. The sight of so much treasure would exercise a baneful influence over me, and I should long to appropriate it to my own use. Whereas, you, worthy Lovel, are of an incorruptible nature, and can see gold without coveting it. You would never dream of making free with the contents of those coffers.”
“Certainly not,” replied Lovel.
“Therein we differ,” pursued Xit. “Had those coffers been confided to me, I should have fallen. The Arch Enemy could not find a more certain means of destroying me than they would afford him. Knowing my own frailty, I respect your honesty the more, worthy Lovel. You can touch gold without being defiled by it. Unluckily, such is not my case.”
Ere Lovel could reply, Osbert called out from the passage:—
“The barge is at hand. I hear a noise outside in the river.”
And, as he spoke, the bell hanging above the outer arch of Traitors’ Gate was rung.
“Here they are!” cried Xit, shaking Magog. “Rouse thyself, thou great sluggard.”