d turned on Mr. _Edwards_, I'm sure that was his name, and
persuades him to play at piquet; and to it they went.

'As I was coming in with more wine, I meets Mr. Archer coming out, "Give
them their wine," says he, in a whisper, "and follow me." An' so I did.
"You know something of Glascock, and have a fast hold of him," says he,
"and tell him quietly to bring up Mr. Beauclerc's boots, and come back
along with him; and bring me a small glass of rum." And back he goes
into the room where the two were stuck in their cards, and talking and
thinking of nothing else.'

CHAPTER LXXI.

IN WHICH MR. IRONS'S NARRATIVE REACHES MERTON MOOR.

'Well, I did as he bid me, and set the glass of rum before him, and in
place of drinking it, he follows me out. "I told you," says he, "I'd
find a way, and I'm going to give you fifty guineas apiece. Stand you at
the stair-head," says he to Glascock, "and listen; and if you hear
anyone coming, step into Mr. Beauclerc's room with his boots, do you
see, for I'm going to rob him." I thought I'd a fainted, and Glascock,
that was a tougher lad than me, was staggered; but Mr. Archer had a way
of taking you by surprise, and getting you into a business before you
knew where you were going. "I see, Sir," says Glascock. "And come you
in, and I'll do it," says Mr. Archer, and in we went, and Mr. Beauclerc
was fast asleep.

'I don't like talking about it,' said Irons, suddenly and savagely, and
he got up and walked, with a sort of a shrug of the shoulders, to and
fro half-a-dozen times, like a man who has a chill, and tries to make
his blood circulate.

Mervyn commanded himself, for he knew the man would return to his tale,
and probably all the sooner for being left to work off his transient
horror how he might.

'Well, he did rob him, and I often thought how cunningly, for he took no
more than about half his gold, well knowing, I'm now sure, neither he
nor my lord, your father, kept any count; and there was a bundle of
notes in his pocket-book, which Mr. Archer was thinning swiftly, when
all of a sudden, like a ghost rising, up sits Mr. Beauclerc, an unlucky
rising it was for him, and taking him by the collar--he was a powerful
strong man--"You've robbed me, Archer," says he. I was behind Mr.
Archer, and I could not see what happened, but Mr. Beauclerc made a sort
of a start and a kick out with his foot, and seemed taken with a tremble
all over, for while you count three, and he fell back