“Yes you! I did not see you do the deed, but after some thought I could stake my life upon the fact that Sheldon, the Thames waterman, came by his death from your sword. Thus it was squire; that man was tempted by me to assist in the murder of Britton. Curiosity, or breach of faith, induced him to dog my footsteps to the lonely house in which you and I and Britton had the pleasant interview at midnight.” Learmont made a gesture of impatience, and Gray proceeded. “You note how candid and explanatory I am; it is not worth my while to lie or conceal aught from you. By some means then, which I own I know not, you met with this Sheldon. He told you my place of abode, and for the information you murdered him.” Learmont bit his lips with passion. “That circumstance awakened me,” added Gray. “Oh! It did me a world of good, I then saw on what slippery ground I stood. I let my revenge sleep, and had its proper time for awaking. You taught me a useful lesson, squire, a lesson on prudence.” “Jacob Gray,” said Learmont, gravely. “You have great talent. Think over my offers. If you can, procure me Britton’s papers. Give me up the boy, and spend your life in any other land you choose. I will charge my lands with an annuity of five thousand pounds per annum.” “But the smith?” “I will, you having rendered him innoxious by depriving him of the papers, undertake to destroy him. He shall not live four-and-twenty hours after that event.” “I—will—think,” said Gray, rising. “You had better,” cried Learmont. “Here is more money now; but you had better take my offer. It is a large one.” “Hem!” said Gray. “And before you go, now,” added Learmont in a tone of excitement, “since you have been so candid with me, know that I am not altogether so much in your power as you, in your great cunning and admirable wisdom, may imagine.” “I am all attention,” answered Gray. “Then I tell you there is a point of endurance beyond which even I may be goaded: pass that by your demands, and I collect all my portable wealth and leave England forever, first handing you over to the tender mercy of the laws.” “Indeed!” said Gray; “I have too much faith.” “Faith in what?” “In your love.” “My love?” “Ay—for yourself. I wish you a good evening, and pleasant dreams. Hem!” CHAPTER XXVIII. Ada’s Lone Home.—The Summer.—An Adventure.