The taunt would appear an ill-timed one at such a minute; but Hemsworth knew well the temperament of him he addressed, and did not utter a syllable at random. Lanty still preserved silence, and looked as though doggedly determined to let the minutes elapse without speaking; his head slightly sunk on his chest, his eyes bent downwards, he sat perfectly motionless. Hemsworth meanwhile refilled his glass, crossed his arms before him, and seemed awaiting, without impatience, the result of the other's deliberation. At length the hand approached the figure; it wanted but about half a minute of the time, and Hems-worth, taking up the watch from the table, held it before Lanty's eyes, as he said-- “Time is nearly up, Master Lawler; do you refuse?” “I only ask one condition,” said Lanty, in a faint whisper. “You shall make no bargains: the letters, or------. It is too late now;” and with these words he replaced his watch in his pocket, and rose from the table. Lanty never moved a muscle, while Hemsworth approached the fireplace, and rang the bell. In doing so, he turned his back to the horse-dealer, but commanded a view of him through means of the little glass above the chimney. He stood thus for a few seconds, when Lanty--in whose flashing eyes, and darkened colour, inward rage was depicted--suddenly thrust his arm into the breast of his coat. Hems-worth turned round at once, and seizing the arm in his powerful grasp, said in a cool, determined voice-- “No, no, Lanty; I'm armed, too. “It was the pocket-book I was feeling for, sir,” said Lanty, with a sickly effort at a smile, while he drew forth a black leather case, and handed it towards Hemsworth. “They are all there--seventeen letters--besides two French commissions, signed by young Mark, and a receipt for four hundred pounds in French gold.” “You must find it hard to get bullets for those pistols I gave you, Lanty,” said Hemsworth, in a tranquil voice. “I forgot to let you have the bullet-mould with them. Remind me of it to-morrow or next day.” Lanty muttered a faint “I will,” but looked the very picture of abject misery as he spoke. “Let me see them, Lanty,” said Hemsworth, in a manner, as calm and unconcerned as could be. “If I don't mistake, they are nearly a quarter of an inch in the bore.” “About that same, sir,” replied Lawler, while he drew forth the two pistols from the same breast-pocket he had taken the letters.