“_If_,” interrupted Jackson, changing his tone: “he _does_ live. And it has been well for you that he imagines the child was drowned.” “Who is he?” asked Thames impatiently. “You're inquisitive, young gentleman,” replied Jackson, coldly. “When you're older, you'll know that secrets of importance are not disclosed gratuitously. Your adoptive father understands mankind better.” “I'd give half I'm worth to hang the villain, and restore this boy to his rights,” said Mr. Wood. “How do you know he _has_ any rights to be restored to?” returned Jackson, with a grin. “Judging from what you tell me, I've no doubt he's the illegitimate offspring of some handsome, but lowborn profligate; in which case, he'll neither have name, nor wealth for his inheritance. The assassination, as you call it, was, obviously, the vengeance of a kinsman of the injured lady, who no doubt was of good family, upon her seducer. The less said, therefore, on this point the better; because, as nothing is to be gained by it, it would only be trouble thrown away. But, if you have any particular fancy for hanging the gentleman, who chose to take the law into his own hands--and I think your motive extremely disinterested and praiseworthy--why, it's just possible, if you make it worth my while, that your desires may be gratified.” “I don't see how this is to be effected, unless you yourself were present at the time,” said Wood, glancing suspiciously at the speaker. “I had no hand in the affair,” replied Jackson, bluntly; “but I know those who had; and could bring forward evidence, if you require it.” “The best evidence would be afforded by an accomplice of the assassin,” rejoined Thames, who was greatly offended by the insinuation as to his parentage. “Perhaps you could point out such a party, Mr. Jackson?” said Wood, significantly. “I could,” replied Thames. “Then you need no further information from me,” rejoined Jackson, sternly. “Stay!” cried Wood, “this is a most perplexing business--if you really are privy to the affair----” “We'll talk of it to-morrow, Sir,” returned Jackson, cutting him short. “In the mean time, with your permission, I'll just make a few minutes of our conversation.” “As many as you please,” replied Wood, walking towards the chimney-piece, and taking down a constable's, staff, which hung upon a nail. Jackson, mean time, produced a pocket-book; and, after deliberately sharpening the point of a pencil, began to write on a blank leaf. While he was thus occupied, Thames, prompted by an unaccountable feeling of curiosity, took up the penknife which the other had just used, and examined the haft. What he there noticed occasioned a marked change in his demeanour. He laid down the knife, and fixed a searching and distrustful gaze upon the writer, who continued his task, unconscious of anything having happened.