"It seems to me, Carrington, that you regard me as a man who will do anything for money. I think I told you that my honor was dearer to me than money. I intend to give up the property to Mallien, if it is legally his, even if it leaves me, as it will, a pauper. The finding of this jewel will make no difference. You understand?"
"Yes. But if the man is guilty he should be punished."
Carrington laughed grimly. "It seems to me that what we have discovered is an excellent proof of his guilt when taken in connection with the known facts of the case."
"But you must. For the sake of justice, if not for your own sake. Confound it, Hendle, take advantage of the chance which Providence has placed in your hands to save your skin. Only you and I and Mrs. Beatson know about the will being discovered; only you and I know about this jewel which brings Mallien perilously near the gallows. For your sake I shall hold my tongue, and you can have this Timon on toast."
"There is something in that, Carrington. But I can't expect you to hold your tongue for nothing."
"Oh, my terms won't be exorbitant. And, of course," added the barrister, making light of his knavery, "as a poor man I must make hay while the sun shines."
"Oh, that is your opinion, is it?" asked Rupert dryly, and, on receiving a smiling nod, walked on rapidly in silence. He had laid a trap for Carrington and the man had fallen into it. He was little more than a blackmailer, who was prepared to make use of his power to enrich himself. To prevent such a thing Rupert temporized, although he could scarcely stop himself from catching Carrington by the throat and hurling him into the ditch. "You must give me time to think over the matter," said Hendle at last.
"Oh, there's no hurry. We are both on the same string, you know. We can make Mallien squeal now."
"Yes," assented Rupert, wondering that the man should think him capable of such baseness, "we can make him squeal!"
Rupert felt very uncomfortable. It was bad enough to have Mrs. Beatson in the house, when he knew how treacherous she was; but it was worse to entertain Carrington as his guest. The barrister undoubtedly was determined to make money at the cost of honor. And what was more, he would probably gain his ends, unless the truth came to light. And the truth required to adjust matters was to learn beyond question what was the name of the individual who had murdered the vicar. If, indeed, Mallien was the culprit, Rupert felt that he was in Carrington's power. It was impossible to allow that truth to come to Lawson's ears, as then Mallien would be arrested and there would be a public scandal. Yet if Carrington, who knew all details, were not bribed largely to keep silence, it seemed likely that he would denounce the miserable man. Of course, as yet, Hendle could not be certain that his cousin had committed the crime; but circumstances were against him, and if the police took up the matter, ruin would stare Mallien in the face. For Dorinda's sake such publicity was not to be thought of for one moment.