“Well, your honor, I don’t see how this alters it. You have nothing to do but to acknowledge madam as your wife, and there’s no one will think of asking when you were married, nor hasn’t no right to do so neither. And if they should, you can say the Doctor married you in his own parlor, and I can swear to that, your honor; if you want me, any time; and so’ll Jem Alderly; and this writing, that I’ll give you, will prove it any time, for it’s in the Doctor’s own hand-writing, and signed by the witnesses. So just you give me the five hundred, and I’ll give you the register; and you can do as you will with it, your honor. But if I was your honor, and you was Peter Verity, I’d just tell the servants, as Madam was my wife, and interduce her as Mistress St. Aubyn like; but I’d not say when nor where, nor nothing about it; and I’d just keep this here paper snug; as I could perduce it, if I wanted, or make away with it, if I wanted; it’s good to have two strings to your bow always.” Jasper had listened to him in silence, with his eyes buried in his hands, while he was speaking, and as he ceased he made no reply; but remained motionless for several minutes. Then he raised his head, and answered in an altered and broken voice. “It cannot be helped now, but I would give very much it had been otherwise.” He opened a drawer, as he spoke, in the escritoir which stood before him, and took out of it a small box bound with brass and secured by a massive lock, the key of which was attached to a chain about his neck. It was filled with rouleux of gold, from which he counted out the sum specified, and pushed the gold across the table to the man, saying, “Count it, and see that it is right, and give me the paper.” Then satisfying himself that it was the very register in question, he folded it carefully, and put it away in the box whence he had withdrawn the gold; while the villain, who had tempted him stowed away the price of his rascality in a leathern bag which he had brought with him for the purpose, well assured that his claim would not be denied. That done, he stood erect and unblushing, and awaited the further orders of the young Lord of Widecomb. “Now, Peter,” said he, collecting himself, “mark me. _You_ are now in my power! and, if I ever hear that you have spoken a word without my permission, or if you fail to speak when I command you—I will hang you.” And he spoke with a devilish energy, that showed how seriously he was in earnest. “Do you understand that, Master Peter Verity?” “I do, your honor,” answered the man, with a doubtful and somewhat gloomy smile; “but there is no need of such threats with me; it is alike my interest and my wish to serve you, as I have done already.” “And it is my interest and my wish that you should serve me, as differently as possible from the way in which you have served me; or served yourself, rather, I should say, sirrah.” “I beg your honor’s pardon, if I have done wrong. I meant to do good service.”