Then Mrs Ogilvy rose up trembling to her feet. She said, clasping her hands again as if to strengthen herself, “I have been very wishful to do all to please you--to treat you, Mr Lew, as if you were--what can I say?--not my own son, for he is but one--but like the son of my friend. But I have a duty--I am not my own woman, to do just what I please. I have a charge of my son before the Lord. I will give you this money to take you away, for this is not your place or your home, and you have nothing ado here. But my son: Robbie, all I have is yours--you can have it all when you like and how you like, my own boy. But not to go away with this man. If you will forsake your home, let it be well considered and at another time. To take you away with this man, fleeing before the pursuer, taking upon you a shame and a sin that is not yours---- No! I will not give you a penny of your father’s money and my savings for that. No, no!--all, when you will, in sobriety and judgment, but nothing now.” Her smallness, her weakness, her trembling, were emphasised by the fact that she seemed to tower over Lew where he sat, and to stand like a rock between the two strong men. “You’re a plucky old girl,” said her antagonist, with a laugh--“I always said so--game to the last: but we can’t stand jabbering all night, don’t you know. Business is business. You must fork out if you were the Queen, my fine old lady. Sit down, for there’s a good deal to say.” “I can hear what you have to say as I am, if it is anything reasonable,” Mrs Ogilvy said. She felt, though she could scarcely keep that upright position by reason of agitation and fear, that she had an advantage over him as she stood. He sprang to his feet before she knew what was going to happen, and with two heavy hands upon her shoulders replaced her in her chair. I will not say forced her back into it, though indeed that was how it was. She leaned back panting and astonished, and looked at him, but did not rise or subject herself to that violence again. “I hope I did not hurt you--I didn’t intend to hurt you,” he said: “but you must remember, mother, though you treat us as boys, that we’re a pair of not too amiable men--and could crush you with a touch, with a little finger,” he added, looking half fiercely, half with a jest, into her eyes. “No,” she said very softly, “you could not crush me--not with all your power.” “Give that paper here, Bob,” said his chief. Robert scarcely moved, did not reveal himself in any way to the light, but with a faint stir of his large shadow produced a folded paper which had been within the breast of his coat. Lew took it and played with it somewhat nervously, the line of white like a wand of light in his hands. “You are rolling in wealth,” he said. She made as if she had said “No!” shaking her head, but took no other notice of the question.