'Consider, Madam'--he continued to address Alice--'this is not a time for false pride or for obstinacy, or even for standing out for better terms. Once more I make the same offer which I made before. Let him sell his chance of a certain succession of which he knows. Let him do that, and all his difficulties and troubles will vanish like the smoke of a bonfire. I tell you plainly, Madam, that I can control the appearance of this evidence without which the prosecution can do nothing. I will control it. If he agrees to sell, your husband shall walk out, on the day of the trial, a free man.' He drew out of his pocket a pocket-book and from that a document which I remembered well--the deed of sale or transfer. Nobody replied. Alice looked at me anxiously. I remained silent and dogged. 'Two years ago--or somewhere about that time--I made the same proposal to him. I offered him £3,000 down for his share of an estate which might never be his--or only after long years--I offered him £3,000 down. It was a large sum of money. He refused. A day or two afterwards he found himself in the King's Bench Prison. I would recall that coincidence to you. Four or five weeks ago I made a similar offer. This time I proposed £4,000 down. He refused again, blind to his own interest. A few days afterwards he found himself within these walls on a capital charge. A third time, and the last time, I make him another offer. This time I raise the sum to £5,000 in order to cover the losses of those two witnesses, and in addition to the money, which is a large sum, enough to carry you on in comfort and in credit, I offer your husband the crowning gift of life. Life--do you hear, woman! Life: and honour: and credit--life--life--life--I say.' His face was troubled: his accents were eager: he was not acting: he felt that he was offering me far more than anything he had ever offered me before. 'Hush,' whispered Jenny, keeping me quiet again--for all the time I was longing to spring to my feet and to let loose a tongue of fiery eloquence. But to sit quite quiet and to say nothing was galling. 'Take it, Will, take it,' said Tom. 'If the gentleman can do what he promises, take it. Life and liberty--I say--before all.'