“No doubt you did, Mr. Rock,” she answered, jeering at him. “Well, and now you’re satisfied, I hope; so how about them fifty sovereigns?” “Forty,” he said. “Fifty. Never a one less.” Samuel sprang up from his seat, and, coming round the table, stood over her. “Look here,” he said in a savage whisper, “you’re pushing this game too far: if you’re a wise woman you’ll take the forty and go, or—” “Or what?” “Or I’ll twist what I want to know out of that black heart of yours, and not a farthing shall you get for it perhaps you’ve forgotten that the door is locked and we are alone in the house. Yes, you might scream till you brought the roof down, but nobody would hear you; and scream you shall if I take hold of you.” Mrs. Gillingwater glanced at his face, and read something so evil on it, and in the lurid eyes, that she grew frightened. “Very well,” she said, as unconcernedly as possible, “I won’t stand out for a tenner between friends: down with the cash, and you shall have it.” “Ah! ma’am, you’re afraid of me now I can feel it and I’ve half a mind to beat you down; but I won’t, I’ll stand by my word. Now you write that address upon this piece of paper and I’ll get the coin.” And rising he left the room by the door near the fireplace, which he took the precaution of locking behind him. “The murdering viper!” reflected Mrs. Gillingwater; “I pinched his tail a little too much that time, and I sha’n’t be sorry to find myself outside again, though there’s precious little chance of that until he chooses, as he’s locked me in. Well, I must brazen it out now.” And somewhere from the regions of her ample bosom she produced the fragment that she had torn off Mrs. Bird’s letter, on which was written the address and a date. Presently Samuel returned holding a small bag of money in his hand, from which he counted out forty sovereigns. “There’s the cash, ma’am,” he said; “but before you touch it be so good as to hand me that bit of writing: no, you needn’t be afraid, I’ll give you the money as I take the paper.” “I’m not afraid, Mr. Rock; when once I’ve struck a bargain I stick to it like an honest woman, and so, I know, will you. Never you doubt that the address is the right one; you can see that it is torn off the letter I read to you. Joan is there, and through the worst of her illness, so the party she’s lodging with wrote to me; and if you see her I hope you’ll give her my love.” As she spoke she pushed the scrap of paper to him with her left hand, while with her right she drew the shining heap of gold towards herself. “Honest!” he said: “I may be honest in my way, Mrs. Gillingwater; but you are about as honest as other traitors who sell innocent blood for pieces of money.” “What do you mean by that, Mr. Rock?” she replied, looking up from her task of securing the forty sovereigns in her pocket-handkerchief. “I’ve sold no innocent blood; I’d scorn to do such a thing! You don’t mean any harm to Joan, do you?”