"You shall finish the bottle when the job's done," replied Jonathan.
"Vat ish it, Mishter Vild?" inquired Mendez. "Shir Rowland Trenchard's affair—eh?"
"That's it," rejoined Jonathan; "I expect him here every minute. When you've admitted him, steal into the room, hide yourself, and don't move till I utter the words, 'You've a long journey before you.' That's your signal."
"And a famoush goot shignal it ish," laughed Abraham. "He hash a long journey before him—ha! ha!"
"Peace!" cried Jonathan. "There's his knock. Go, and let him in. And mind you don't arouse his suspicions."
"Never fear—never fear," rejoined Abraham, as he took up the link, and left the room.
Jonathan cast a hasty glance around, to see that all was properly arranged for his purpose; placed a chair with its back to the door; disposed the lights on the table so as to throw the entrance of the room more into shadow; and then flung himself into a seat to await Sir Rowland's arrival.
He had not to wait long. Enveloped in a large cloak, Sir Rowland stalked into the room, and took the seat assigned him; while the Jew, who received a private signal from Jonathan, set down the link near the entrance of the Well Hole, and, having made fast the door, crept behind one of the cases.
Fancying they were alone, Sir Rowland threw aside his cloak, and produced a heavy bag of money, which he flung upon the table; and, when Wild had feasted his greedy eyes sufficiently upon its golden contents, he handed him a pocket-book filled with notes.
"You have behaved like a man of honour, Sir Rowland," said Wild, after he had twice told over the money. "Right to a farthing."