“Before we separate now,” interposed Gray, “there is one thing which we should all feel thoroughly assured, and that is, that our mutual safety depends upon our mutual preservation; that is, I mean, if one falls the others are in danger.” “We understand that, most politic Master Gray,” sneered Learmont, as he clasped his cloak, preparatory to leaving the smithy. “Perhaps, not fully,” said Gray. “I am sure, not fully,” cried Britton, with a hoarse laugh. “I have a hold upon our good friend the squire, which I will not even trust to the good-keeping of Master Jacob Gray.” “Ha!” cried Learmont, turning ghastly pale. “What—what mean you?” “This way,” said the smith, beckoning the squire to the further end of the apartment. Learmont obeyed the invitation, and whatever was the communication he received, it was conveyed very briefly, for he suddenly exclaimed— “Enough! enough!” and strode to the door. “Your worshipful squireship,” said Gray, “will always please to recollect that my little packet, that is at home, would be an exceedingly awkward revelation, should anything happen to me.” “Hear me, both of you!” cried Learmont, turning with flashing eyes upon the two men who so mocked him with their power. “I know;—I admit that you both possess secrets that would prove my destruction; aye, my death. We do understand one another, and we may as well speak openly. What you would say is this, Jacob Gray, that I dare not for my own safety take your vile life; and you the same, Britton; you have me in your toils, I grant it; there needs no insinuations. We have waded through too much blood to feel any delicacy of speech towards each other. You have power, but beware how you use it, or you will rouse a devil that you cannot quell again. Be moderate and faithful, and it will not be worth my while to seek for safe means for your destruction. Drive me too far, and you perish, though I call on hell to aid me!” So saying, without waiting for an answer, he strode from the smithy with his face distorted by passion, leaving the two confederates, who had not expected such a burst of fury, abashed, even in spite of their deep villanies and abounding craft. “Gray!” said the smith, after a few moments’ silence. Jacob Gray started and cried, “What shall we do now? Squire Learmont is a man of wild passion.” “What is his wild passion to us?” said Britton; “we have the means of stripping him of his wealth, and leading him to a scaffold.” “But you forget, Master Britton, that upon that same scaffold you and I would be accommodated with prominent situations.” “Pshaw!” cried the smith. “That is a thought that does not haunt me. We are as adventurous miners, Gray, who have suddenly hit upon a vein of wealth, which it requires but ordinary skill to work to our mutual profit.” “True,” said Gray, “and we will work it, always my friend, Britton, remembering that we are so situated that we stand or fall together.”