"Nothing, sir; but to a man in my position, with his character as a keen officer at stake, a great deal. Mr Leslie, sir. Has he been back?" "There, once for all, it's of no use for you to come and question me, Parkins. I engaged you to track out my niece; you have succeeded, and you may draw what I promised you, and five-and-twenty guineas besides for the sharp way in which you carried it out. You have done your task, and I discharge you. I belong to the enemy now." "Yes, sir; but I have the other job to finish, in which you did not instruct me." "Look here, Parkins," said Uncle Luke, taking him by the lapel of his coat, "never mind about the other business." "But I do, sir. Every man has some pride, and mine is to succeed in every job I take in hand." "Ah! well, look here; you shall succeed. You did your best over it, and we'll consider it was the last act of the drama when my foolish nephew jumped into the sea." "Oh, no, sir. I--" "Wait a minute. What a hurry you men are in! Now look here, Parkins. I'm only a poor quiet country person, and I should be sorry for you to think I tried to bribe you; but you've done your duty. Now go no farther in this matter, and I'll sell out stock to a hundred pounds, and you shall transfer it to your name in the bank." Parkins shook his head and frowned. "For a nest egg, man." "No, sir." "Then look here, my man; this is a painful family scandal, and I don't want it to go any farther, for the sake of those who are suffering. I'll make it two hundred." "No, sir; no." "Then two hundred and fifty; all clean money, Parkins." "Dirty money, sir, you mean," said the sergeant quietly. "Look here, Mr Luke Vine, you are, as you say, a quiet country gentleman, so I won't be angry with you. You'll give me five hundred pounds to stop this business and let your nephew get right away?" Uncle Luke drew a long breath. "Five hundred!" he muttered. "Well, it will come out of what I meant to leave him, and I suppose he'll be very glad to give it to escape." "Do you understand me, sir? You'll give me five hundred pounds to stop this search?" Uncle Luke drew another long breath. "You're a dreadful scoundrel, Parkins, and too much for me; but yes: you shall have the money." "No, sir, I'm not a dreadful scoundrel, or I should make you pay me a thousand pounds." "I wouldn't pay it--not a penny more than five hundred." "Yes, you would, sir; you'd pay me a thousand for the sake of that sweet young lady up-stairs. You'd pay me every shilling you've got if I worked you, and in spite of your shabby looks I believe you're pretty warm." "Never you mind my looks, sir, or my warmth," cried Uncle Luke indignantly. "That matter is settled, then? Five hundred pounds?" "Thousand would be a nice bit of money for a man like me to have put away against the day I get a crack on the head or am shot by some scoundrel. Nice thing for the wife and my girl. Just about the same age as your niece, sir."