"Has the man written to me?" asked Miss Yard, when the whole matter had been recalled to her memory.
"Don't you remember? He said you were a silly old woman, and you had no business to interfere."
"Where is the letter? Find it for me, George, and I'll do something," she cried indignantly.
"You were so angry that you threw it on the fire. Don't worry, Aunt; I shall know how to defend myself. The man tried to bribe me to leave you, and now he's threatening to send me to prison by means of false evidence."
"I wish you would let me write to my own man, what's his name?"
"That would lead to expense, and you must not spend money on me. If I don't go away I'm afraid the man may come to Highfield with a gang of ruffians, and break into the house--and I won't have you worried."
"I'll give you some money," said the generous lady. "Where's my cheque-book? Tell Nellie to find my cheque-book."
"Thank you, Aunt. A little money will be very useful. This man is just a blackmailer, and if I hide for a few weeks he will forget all about me. Then you can write and invite me to come back," said George tenderly.
"I'll write this moment," cried Miss Yard.
"But I haven't gone yet. You are mistress here and, if you like to invite me, of course, I can come and stay as long as you care to have me."
"And if that horrid man tries to turn you out again, I shall let Percy know about it, and I shall get advice from Hunter--I wonder how I came to remember his name. Do write to Hunter and tell him all about it," Miss Yard pleaded.
"To please you, I will," George promised.
That evening he received a letter in strange handwriting, and bearing the illegible postmark which signified that it came from London. George opened it and, perceiving the signature of Mr. Crampy, expert in ancient porcelain, read the contents with interest:
"Since visiting you I have spoken with several collectors about your pair of vases, which, I have no doubt whatever, are excellent specimens dating from the Tsing dynasty, although I admit forgeries of this period are exceedingly difficult to detect. My object in writing is to warn you against being imposed upon, and to remind you of your promise to give me first refusal up to a thousand pounds, which sum I am still perfectly willing to risk.