Dr. Arnot glanced hungrily at the envelope, while he appeared surprised at her statement; for, in spite of her previous assertion that she was rich, he had not believed that she could personally control any amount worth mentioning. He was strongly tempted, however, by the sum which she now offered him. But there were a good many things to be thought of in connection with it. Madame Rochester might pay him a visit before leaving for Italy, and demand to see his patient. If he could not produce her, she could easily make trouble for him; she would demand the money she had already paid him; she might complain of him to the authorities, and thus cause an investigation of the way he conducted his institution, which would ruin his reputation, and even so large a sum as twenty thousand francs would not compensate him for that. Still, if he could have accepted Salome’s offer without any danger to himself, it is safe to say that he would have done so on the spot. He was thoughtful for several moments afterward, while she watched him with breathless eagerness. “Twenty thousand francs is a large sum, mademoiselle,” he at length remarked, a greedy light in his eyes; “but even if I should accept your offer, how can I be assured that it really belongs to you?” Salome’s lips curled scornfully; she saw that the man was such a knave himself he had no faith in any one else. “You shall yourself accompany me to the bank while I draw the money, and where I have already been several times to provide myself with funds. The cashier and clerks there know me and will identify me.” This sounded reasonable, and the man was half tempted again to yield, for he wanted the money badly. Perhaps after Madame Rochester had left Paris he might venture to accept her offer; but at present it would not do to run the risk of discovery. “I am bound to madam,” he finally said in a musing tone. “I am afraid—at least I must have time to think; I will consider the matter, and let mademoiselle know my decision later.” With that he bowed politely to her and walked out of the room. She was greatly disappointed and distressed, and, being still weak and easily unnerved, she burst into bitter weeping. She knew of course that inquiry would soon be made for her, and she wondered what kind of a story Mrs. Rochester would make up to account for her disappearance from the chateau. Oh, if she could only get word to some one outside! But Salome was not of a despondent temperament naturally, and after the first paroxysm of despair had passed she began to consider her situation more calmly and hopefully, and tried to devise some plan by which to outwit her captors. Her first resolve was to disarm Dr. Arnot, if possible, of any suspicion of her intention—make him think that she had concluded to submit to a fate she could not change, and thus secure more freedom in the hospital.