"You may have others. We must search you."
"Hold!" cried Dick; "if you will not listen to me, read that paper." And he handed Ranulph his mother's letter to Mr. Coates. It was without the superscription, which he had thrown aside.
"My mother's hand!" exclaimed Ranulph, reddening with anger, as he hastily perused its contents. "And she sent this to you? You lie, villain—'tis a forgery."
"Let this speak for me," returned Dick, holding out the finger upon which Lady Rookwood's ring was placed. "Know you that cipher?"
"You have stolen it," retorted Ranulph. "My mother," added he, in a deep, stern whisper, articulated only for Turpin's hearing, "would never have entrusted her honor to a highwayman's keeping."
"She has entrusted more—her life," replied Dick, in a careless tone. "She would have bribed me to do murder."
"Murder!" echoed Ranulph, aghast.
"Ay, to murder your brother," returned Dick; "but let that pass. You have read that note. I have acted solely upon your mother's responsibility. Lady Rookwood's honor is pledged for my safety. Of course her son will set me free."
"Never!"
"Well, as you please. Your mother is in my power. Betray me, and you betray her."