Jonathan's eyes glistened as he told over the notes.
"You've given me more than the amount, Sir Rowland," he said, after he had twice counted them, "or I've missed my reckoning. There's a hundred pounds too much."
"Keep it," said Trenchard, haughtily.
"I'll place it to your account, Sir Rowland," answered the thief-taker, smiling significantly. "And now, shall we proceed to Queenhithe?"
"Stay!" cried the other, taking a chair, "a word with you, Mr. Wild."
"As many as you please, Sir Rowland," replied Jonathan, resuming his seat. "I'm quite at your disposal."
"I have a question to propose to you," said Trenchard, "relating to—" and he hesitated.
"Relating to the father of the boy—Thames Darrell," supplied Jonathan. "I guessed what was coming. You desire to know who he was, Sir Rowland. Well, you shall know."
"Without further fee?" inquired the knight.
"Not exactly," answered Jonathan, drily. "A secret is too valuable a commodity to be thrown away. But I said I wouldn't drive a hard bargain with you, and I won't. We are alone, Sir Rowland," he added, snuffing the candles, glancing cautiously around, and lowering his tone, "and what you confide to me shall never transpire,—at least to your disadvantage."