"Sir," replied the baronet, "your apology is as unseasonable as the
offence for which you make it. You see in what a state of agitation I
am, and yet, seeing this, you have the presumption to annoy me by your
impertinence. I have already told you, that I would help you to this
d----d magistracy: although it is a shame, before God and man to put
such a creature as you are upon the bench. Don't you see, sir, that I am
not in a mood to be spoken to?"

Poor Crackenfudge was silent; and, upon remembering his previous
dialogue with Fenton, he could not avoid thinking that he was treated
rather roughly between them, The baronet, however, still moved backward
and forward, like an enraged tiger in his cage, without any further
notice of Crackenfudge; who, on his part, felt likely to explode,
unless he should soon disburden himself of his intelligence. Indeed, so
confident did he feel of the sedative effect it would and must have upon
the disturbed spirit of this dark and terrible man, that he resolved to
risk an experiment, at all hazards, after his own way. He accordingly
puckered his face into a grin that was rendered melancholy by the terror
which was still at his heart, and, in a voice that had one of the most
comical quavers imaginable, he said: "Good news, Sir Thomas."

"Good devil, sir! what do you mean?"

"A' mean good news, Sir Thomas. The fellow in the inn--a' know
everything about him."

"Eh! what is that? I beg your pardon, Crackenfudge; I have treated you
discourteously and badly--but you will excuse me. I have had such cause
for excitement as is sufficient to drive me almost mad. What is the good
news you speak of, Crackenfudge?"

"Do you know who the fellow in the inn is, Sir Thomas?"

"Not I; but I wish I did."

"Well, then, a' can tell you."

Sir Thomas turned abruptly about, and, fastening his dark gleaming eyes
upon him, surveyed him with an expression of which no language could
give an adequate description.

"Crackenfudge," said he, in a voice condensed into tremendous power
and interest, "keep me not a moment in suspense--don't tamper with me,
sir--don't attempt to play upon me--don't sell your intelligence, nor
make a bargain for it. Curse your magistracy--have I not already told
you that I will help you to it? What is the intelligence--the good news
you speak of?"

"Why, simply this, Sir Thomas," replied the other,--"that a' know who
and what the fellow in the inn is; but, for God's sake, Sir