“Do ye want it done? Tell me that,--be fair and above boord with me,--do you want it done?” Linton was silent; but a slight, an almost imperceptible motion of his brows made the reply. “And now what's it worth?” resumed Tom. “To _you_,” said Linton, speaking slowly, “it is worth much--everything. It is all the difference between poverty, suffering, and a jail, and a life of ease and comfort either here or in America. Your little farm, that you hold at present by the will, or rather the caprice, of your landlord, becomes your own forever; when I say forever, I mean what is just as good, since the estate will be thrown back into Chancery; and it is neither _your_ children nor mine will see the end of that.” “That's no answer to _me_,” said Keane, fixing his cold, steady stare on Linton's face. “I want to know--and I won't ax it again--what is it worth to _you?_” “To _me!_--to _me!_” said Linton, starting. “How could it be worth anything to _me?_” “You know that best yourself,” said Tom, sulkily. “I am neither the heir to his estates, nor one of his remote kindred. If I see a fine property going to ruin, and the tenantry treated like galley-slaves, I may, it is true, grieve over it; I may also perceive what a change--a total and happy change--a mere accident might work; for, after all, just think of the casualties that every day brings forth--” “I have n't time for these thoughts now,” muttered Tom. “Always to the point,--always thinking of the direct question!” said Linton, smiling. “'T is n't yer honer's failin', anyhow,” said Tom, laughing sardonically. “You shall not say that of me, Tom,” said Linton, affecting to relish the jocularity; “I'll be as prompt and ready as yourself. I'll wager you ten sovereigns in gold--there they are--that I can keep a secret as well as you can.” As he spoke, he threw down the glittering pieces upon the step on which they sat. The peasant's eyes were bent upon the money with a fierce and angry expression, less betokening desire than actual hate. As he looked at them, his cheek grew red, and then pale, and red once more; his broad chest rose and fell like a swelling wave, and his bony fingers clasped each other in a rigid grasp. “There are twenty more where these came from,” said Linton, significantly. “That's a high price,--devil a lie in it!” muttered Tom, thoughtfully. Linton spoke not, but seemed to let the charm work. “A high price, but the 'dhrop' in Limerick is higher,” said Tom, with a grin. “Perhaps it may be,” rejoined Linton, carelessly; “though I don't perceive how the fact can have any interest for you or me.” “Be gorra, ye 're a cowld man, anyhow,” said Keane, his savage nature struck with admiring wonder at the unmoved serenity of Linton's manner. “I'm a determined one,” said Linton, who saw the necessity of impressing his companion; “and with such alone would I wish to act.” “And where would you be, after it was all over, sir?”