“Perhaps I wanted proof that the old man was past levying toll on.” A wicked smile wrinkled his mouth. “Perhaps I satisfied myself he was, and from you I expected no consideration or justice.” “You can leave that out of the question. A mere business contract is another matter, and that is what I come to propose.” “Oh, indeed!” He said it with a sneer, but moved nevertheless nearer the table, so that we could talk without raising our voices. “May I ask the nature of this stupendous contract?” “I will tell you without asking. I make you this offer--to hand over to you all that remains of the treasure on one condition.” “And that is?” “That you tell me how my brother Modred came by his death.” He gave a little start; then dropped his eyes, frowning, and drummed with his fingers on the table. I saw he understood; that he was groping in his mind for some middle course, whereby he could satisfy all parties and secure the prize for himself. “If your father didn’t do it,” he was beginning, but I took him up at the outset. “You know he didn’t! It is a foul lie of such a man. Dr. Crackenthorpe”--my voice, despite my stubborn resolve, broke a little--“he is lying there on his deathbed, despairing, haunted with the thought that it was he who in a fit of drunken madness strangled the life in his own son. It is all hideous--monstrous--unnatural. You know more about it, I believe, than any man. You were sitting with him that night.” “But he left me awhile.” “You know it wasn’t in his nature to do such a thing!” “Pardon me. I have always looked upon your father as a dangerous, reckless fellow.” “I won’t believe it. You know more than you will say--more than you dare to tell. Oh, if that churchyard fellow had only lived I would have had the truth by now.” “I hope so, though you do me the honor to hold me implicated with him in some absurd and criminal secret, and on the strength of a little delirious raving--not an uncommon experience in the profession, trust me.” “I don’t appeal to your charity or your mercy. There’s a rich reward awaiting you if you tell what you know and ease the old dying man’s mind. Further than that--if you withhold the truth and let him pass in his misery, I swear that I’ll never rest till I’ve dragged you down and destroyed you.” He bent his body in a mocking and ungainly bow. “I really can’t afford to temporize with my conscience for any one living or dead. As it is, I have allowed myself to slip into the position of an accomplice, which is an extreme concession on my part of friendly patronage toward a family that has certainly never studied to claim my good offices.” I looked at him gloomily. I could not believe even now that he would dismiss me without some by-effort toward the prize that he saw almost within his grasp; and I was right. “Still,” he went on, “I don’t claim infallibility for my deduction. I shall be pleased, if you wish it, to return with you and if possible to question the patient.”