“We have reason to suppose you are well off, at least. You have got your income, which can’t be touched, and you have got a lot of money well invested.” She did not make any reply, but looked at him steadily, marking every gesture. “It is this,” he said, “to which Bob has a natural right. I think we are very reasonable. We don’t want to rob you, notwithstanding our great need of money: you can see that we wish to use no violence, only to set before you what you ought to do.” “I will not do it,” said Mrs Ogilvy. “We’ll see about that. I have been thinking about this for some time, and I have taken my measures. Here is a list which we got from your man--the old fogey you threatened us with--or at least from _his_ man. And here is a letter directing everything to be realised, and the money paid over to your son. You will sign this----” “From my man--you are meaning Mr Somerville?” Mrs Ogilvy looked at the paper which had been thrust into her hand, bewildered. “And he never said a word of it to me!” “Don’t let us lay the blame where it isn’t due,” said the other, lightly: “from his man. Probably the respectable old fogey never knew----” “Ah!” she cried, “the clerk that was Robbie’s friend! Then it was Robbie himself----” “Robbie himself,” said Lew, in the easiest tone, “as it was he who had the best, the only, right to find out. Now, mother, come! execute yourself as bravely as you have done the other things. Sign, and we’ll have a glass all round, and part the best friends in the world. When you wake in the morning you’ll find we’ve cleared out.” “It was Robbie,” she said to herself, murmuring, scarcely audible to the others, “it was Robbie--Robbie himself.” She took no notice of the paper which was placed before her. All her mind seemed occupied by this. “Robbie--it was Robbie, my son.” “Who should it be but Bob? Do you think that information would have been furnished to me? What did I know about it? It was Bob, of course; and don’t you think he was quite right? Come! here’s pen and ink ready. Sign, and then it will be all over. It goes against me, mother, to ask anything you don’t like--it does, though you mayn’t believe me. Now, one moment, and the thing will be done.” He spoke to her, coaxing her, as to a child, but there was a kindling devil in his eye. Robbie never raised his head or opened his mouth, but he made to his comrade an imperative gesture with his hand. The tension was becoming too much to bear. “Come, mother,” said Lew, “sign--sign!” This time she did not rise up as before. She had a faint physical dread of provoking his touch upon her person again; but she lifted her head, and looking at him, said steadily, “No.” “No?--you say this to us who could--kill you with a touch?” “I will not do it,” she said.