“Agreed,” cried the smith. “If I fall I care not who stands; only thus much I will take pains to do—drag all I can within the sphere of my own ruin.” “You are very considerate,” said Gray. “And now you must recollect that my absence from London must be limited. There is danger in a longer stay.” “Away, then, with you at once.” “What! leave Learmont with nothing but sounding promises, and an empty purse? No, Britton. I must again see Squire Learmont, before I take my leave of this place, which I hate.” “True,” said the smith. “And before you go, there is another small matter in which I claim your assistance.” “What is that?” “Beyond that ancient door is a sight which must be placed beyond human recognition.” Gray turned ghastly pale, as he said, “Britton, your nerves are strong. You will feel little in—in—disposing securely of whatever is there that would blast the gaze of another.” “Jacob Gray,” said Britton in a determined tone, “you share the advantages. You have by your cunning so hedged yourself in with precautions, that I, even I, feel how impolitic it would be to scatter your brains with yon forge-hammer.” Gray started to his feet, as he exclaimed: “You surely did not mean to murder me?” “I did!” roared the smith. “And now, Jacob Gray, we understand each other, and you know you are safe with me. But I will have no flinching, there is a work to be performed which you shall aid in, although you shrink from it as you would from the mouth of hell. If it turn your blood to liquid flame you shall do it. If your reason fail you at the ghastly sight, for ghastly it is, you shall do it; nay, should you die in gasping terror, and involve me and Learmont in one common destruction by the wily narrative you have left in London, you shall do it.” “Spare me! spare me!” said Gray. “Ha! Ha!” laughed the smith, with a discordant yell that echoed through the lofty hall. “Spare you? spare Jacob Gray?” “I implore you,” cried Gray. “Spare me this task and I will pay you handsomely.” “You forget,” said Britton “that I have a better-filled purse than yours to apply to. I love money, because it is enjoyment and power, but I have my fancies, and one of them is, that you shall do your full share of this necessary work. Your safety, as well as mine, demands that it should be done. Any prying rustic who could so far call upon his curiosity as to master his fears and penetrate from this hall through yon door, would find food for gossip and inquiry, that would raise a spirit, even all the wealth of Learmont could not quell. It must be done, I say, and by the infernal powers you shall do it.” Gray shuddered, and he said in a low voice, “When shall we again see Learmont?”