“Feel that,” he whispered to me, chuckling and holding out his hand.
It was full of money.
“But that's stealing, Nick,” I said, frightened.
“Of course I'll give it back,” he whispered indignantly.
Instantly there came loud words and the scraping of chairs within the room, and a woman's scream. I heard Mr. Riddle's voice say thickly, amid the silence that followed:—
“Mr. Darnley, you're a d—d thief, sir.”
“You shall answer for this, when you are sober, sir,” said Mr. Darnley.
Then there came more scraping of chairs, all the company talking excitedly at once. Nick and I scrambled to the ground, and we did the very worst thing we could possibly have done,—we took the ladder away.
There was little sleep for me that night. I had first of all besought Nick to go up into the drawing-room and give the money back. But some strange obstinacy in him resisted.
“'Twill serve Harry well for what he did to-day,” said he.