"Have you no capital? No means of your own?"
"No. I have always lived up to my income--you know how I have lived, Harry, for you have often shared my hospitality," said Eversleigh, appealingly.
"Oh, your hospitality be ----!" cried Bennet, rudely. "How does that help either you or me now? If anything, it makes matters worse. What I ought to do is just what I said. I should go to another solicitor, tell him how the case stands, and in a short time you would be in prison. But what good will that be to me? I must think everything over very carefully. I shall not be precipitate."
"I'm not thinking of you," rejoined Harry, brutally. "One word, however. How many people know about my property being disposed of--in this irregular manner by Silwood?" asked Bennet, sarcastically.
"Well, I shall take no action to-day. I am going home now, and to-night I'll make up my mind. I shall see you again to-morrow, and tell you what is my intention."
And Bennet strode out of the room. As he descended the stairs he almost cannoned against Gilbert Eversleigh, who was going up to see his father. Bennet hardly returned the salute Gilbert gave him, but the sight of his successful rival had given him an idea.
"I shall see you again to-morrow, and tell you what is my intention," were the words with which Bennet had left Eversleigh, and they rang in the ears of the solicitor like a knell. He knew he was in Bennet's power, and as he thought of Harry and the character of the young man he told himself it was useless to expect mercy or even consideration of any kind.
"The day of reckoning," he moaned, "has indeed come."
He asked himself if there was any one to whom he could appeal for assistance in his extremity; but he could think of no one, and even if such a friend had existed, it would now be too late to appeal to him for help, because Bennet knew enough--and more than enough--to send him to prison.
This was in his mind when Gilbert, passing up the stairs on which he had encountered Bennet, came into his father's room. For one moment he had a wild notion to tell his son everything, but quickly decided against it.
"I met Harry Bennet just now," remarked Gilbert, "and he seemed in a bad humour, to judge from the glance with which he favoured me. I suppose you have been giving him a lecture?"