"I know there is danger of it, and of course I shrink from it." "Then why do you come here? Are you mad?" "After ten years I wished to see my wife once more. I am a sick man. I came to her to be nursed back to health." "Take care, or when you leave here it will be for a less desirable boarding-place!" said the squire, in a menacing tone. "You mean the prison?" "Yes; that is what I mean." "No one in Lakeville knows who I am. Why should I fear?" "I know." "Surely you would not betray me--you, the man who worked for years at my side?" "I cannot compromise with crime. It is my duty as a good, law-abiding citizen, to denounce you to the authorities." "You--a good, law-abiding citizen!" repeated John Barton, with scornful emphasis. Squire Marlowe started back in astonishment. The worm had turned. "Do you mean to question it?" he demanded, sharply. "Yes, I do." "On what grounds?" "Albert Marlowe," said John Barton, sternly, "one of us two is a thief, but I am not the one." "Do you mean to insult me?" exclaimed the squire, white with anger, not unmingled with uneasy fear. "Come in! I have something to say to you. It is better said in-doors, where no passer-by can hear it." Mechanically Squire Marlowe followed John Barton into the little sitting-room. Mrs. Barton looked up from her rocking-chair in surprise and apprehension, and half rose. "Stay where you are, Mary," said her husband. "I wish you to hear what I am about to say to Albert Marlowe." CHAPTER XXXVIII. MR. BARTON DEFIES THE SQUIRE. Squire Marlowe sat down, while John Barton, instead of quailing in his presence, eyed him with cool indifference. "What is the meaning of this tomfoolery?" asked Albert Marlowe, uneasily. "You may call it what you like, but the time has come for an explanation. Albert Marlowe, you have done me a cruel wrong. It is through you that I have had my name blackened and have been forced to fly from my country." "So you went to Canada, did you?" sneered the squire. "It's a popular resort for gentlemen of your class." "Your words do not trouble me, for I never committed the crime with which I was charged." "Of course not. It is wonderful how innocent you all are. But you say that I am responsible for the consequences of your crime. What do you mean by that?" "I mean," answered Barton, with a penetrating glance, "that the bonds were stolen by you, and that you schemed to throw the blame upon me. Is this plain?" "Are you mad?" said the squire, angrily, "do you expect the world to believe this, or are you in a conspiracy to blackmail me?" "The last question you can ask when I demand money from you as the price of my silence."