By the first gray tint of morning light, there sat three persons in a small room of the mansion of Learmont; they were the smith, Gray, and the squire himself. A quantity of money lay upon the table before them, upon which Gray’s eyes were fixed with eager expression. The smith was evidently not indifferent to the sparkling treasure before him, but he did not exhibit his feelings so openly as Jacob Gray, while the Lord of Learmont himself sat with his back to the dim light in moody silence. “I shall be off,” cried Gray, “before another cock can proclaim the day is coming.” Learmont merely inclined his head. “And I,” said Britton, “leave here for London in the course of the day.” “Once more,” said Learmont, in a deep hollow voice—“once more I offer you the large sum I have mentioned, if you will accede to my two propositions.” “No sir,” replied Gray, “I say no.” “And you, Britton?” “I say no, likewise,” replied the smith. “I double my offer,” cried Learmont. “Double?” echoed Gray. “Aye, double. Let me but be sure that he is no more, and upon your arrival in any part of America you may choose, you will find an order there for the amount.” “No! No!” cried Britton. “’Tis a large sum, a very large sum,” murmured Gray. “Hark ye!” cried Learmont, his face glowing with excitement. “Hark ye! your presence will be my curse. Every time I see you will blast my eyes with the remembrance of what I intend to forget in the vortex of pleasure. My double offer amounts to no less a sum than two thousand pounds to each of you. Once more, I raise your price, I will make those sums three thousand each.” “It is useless,” said Britton. “A night at the gaming table, and we are beggars again. No, Learmont, there is nothing like a constant resource.” “Very true,” said Gray. “That is exceedingly true; besides; my feelings would not allow me to take the life of—of—” “Your feelings?” cried Learmont. “Wretch! If among us three there be one more doubly damned by crime than another, that one is Jacob Gray. If there be one villain more coldly calculating than another, it is thou. Talk of thy feelings? thou sneaking ruffian—thou shrinking cut-throat!” The smith threw himself back in his chair, and burst into a peal of uproarious laughter. “Capital! Oh, capital!” he cried. “That’s you, good, politic Master Gray. Ho! Ho! How well we all understand each other! There are no needless delicacies. Ho! Ho! Ho!” Gray rose from his chair without saying a word, but his very lips were pale with suppressed rage. He hastily collected the money that lay before him, and having bestowed it away in safety, he cast a malignant scowl upon Learmont, and said,—“We shall meet again soon, sir, when, should you happen to raise your voice do high, there may be listeners, who will say we judge of Learmont by his company. Now to London.” So saying, without waiting for a reply, he left the room.