or you'll repent it. I'm playing high, and I'll stand no
humbug. Look here, old man," he continued, turning to Brettison, "you
sit down there, whoever you are. I don't want to hurt you. I warn you,
for I may turn rusty. What you've got to do is to take a sensible view
of the case, and advise him to do the same. Sit down."

He spoke as fiercely as if it were to an obstinate dog, and Brettison
sank back in an easy-chair, looking stunned.

"That's right. Now you, Stratton, you'd better squat down, too. I've
come on particular business. I expected you to turn nasty, and I'm
quite prepared."

He tapped his breast where he had felt for the revolver, and a look of
low cunning crossed his heavy face.

Stratton also sank into a chair--not so much in obedience to the man's
words as to gain time and settle upon some plan of action.

"Come, that's sensible," said the man, smiling. "I see we shall come to
good terms suitable to all parties. I hate quarrelling, specially when
all the good cards are in my hand. It's like being forced to take a
cowardly advantage of the other side."

Brettison turned a hopeless look upon Stratton, and the man saw it and
said sharply:

"Never mind him. I'll tell you, as you were not here. I propose a
handsome sum down. Hallo! he has pocketed those notes that were on the
table. But it doesn't matter, they're easily brought out. A handsome
sum down, and a regular quarterly payment. He has only to agree to
that, and James Barron goes about in the dark and he never sees him.
It'll be just as if James Barron was shot and drowned, as the papers
said, in an attempt to escape off The Foreland one dark night about a
year ago. Ugh! it was rough work," he added, with a shudder, "and I
deserve a little extra for leaving the lady alone for so long. Now,
then, isn't that a fair offer?"

Brettison's lips moved as he sat there perfectly prostrated, wishing
that in his zeal he had not interfered; for had he not, the man before
them would have been dead and powerless to work all this evil--unless
discovery had made him a more deadly enemy still.

"I say, isn't that a fair offer?" he repeated. "Silence gives consent.
There we are, then. Come, Stratton. They must be ready to start for
the church by this time, so look alive and let's get the business done.
Just a few strokes of the pen, the handing over of some filthy lucre in
the shape of notes--Bank of England, mind," he said with a pecul