“Here he is back again--at the end of twenty years--an escaped convict, I presume, with an ex-pedagogue for lieutenant and a tradition to trade upon. Surely he is forfeit to the law at the outset; and, upon my word, Mr. Brander, your confidences are embarrassing.” “Make him over to the hangman, sir. I give you my honour I’ll help you. Maybe I could prove his title to a fast place in Execution Dock.” “I see. You are really a very admirable rascal. But, you’ll want your price?” “Oh! without doubt.” “And that is--no, no, Mr. Brander; not half the value of the stone?” “It’s a damned risky business, Mr. Tuke. I play my life against a competence.” “But, listen, my friend. What claim has any one of you to a share in the ruby?” “If it comes to that, what claim have you?” “None whatever.” “See here, sir. The man was one of us. The stone was fair spoil for division--not the perquisite of a single master-rogue. It was no appendage, conditional on your acquisition of the property--now, was it?” “You know all about it, I see. Well, Mr. Brander, your boy there’s getting impatient.” The long man’s jaw hung slack while he rubbed it, and a very evil look came into his eyes. “Is that tantamount to saying you decline to treat?” he said. “Your boy, Mr. Brander. I yield you precedence of the road, sir.” “I’ve given you my confidence, by God! You’ll know what that means.” “I never asked for it, you’ll observe.” The devil looked out of Mr. Tuke’s eyes, and he set his teeth. “You dog!” he cried low. “What makes you dare presume thus upon my tolerance?” His fingers were nervous with his pistol-stock. He took a quick step forward. At that Brander’s fury came with a clap. “Presume!” he hissed, and cried it again with a scream. “A cursed broken gamester that daren’t show his face in public! A posted defaulter! A despicable and despised spendthrift, with a wilderness for his reversion! Oh! I understand you, sir--I understand you. You’re a woundy character, by God! and you’ll make disposition of the stone and think to patch your reputation with bank-notes. But, beware, sir! There’s no law of heaven or earth that gives you a title to the gem. To withhold it from the just processes of barter is to put yourself without the pale of consideration. Why, who are you--who are you, I----” He choked with his very rage, and stood impotently quivering his clenched fists. “Mr. Brander,” said the other, absolutely suave and unheated, “I give you two minutes to mount and be off.” The click of his flint-lock cut in like the snap of teeth. For a moment it looked as if a tragedy were near enacting. The gallows chains, swung by the wind, creaked with rusty laughter. High overhead a crow, lazily drifting down the valley, checked its course a speculative instant and resumed it with a peevish and contemptuous “Caw!”