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"I'll give them beans," he said, looking fearfully from right to left.
"Every door is locked; every window is bolted. I've heaped up chairs and sofas and tables and chests of drawers, and wardrobes and mattresses against every opening to keep the devils out. And the lamps--look at the lamps. Ugh!" he shuddered. "I can't bear to be in the dark."
"Plenty of light," observed Garvington, and spoke truly, for there must have been at least six lamps in the room--two on the table, two on the mantel-piece, and a couple on the sideboard. And amidst his primitive defences sat Silver quailing and quivering at every sound, occasionally pouring brandy down his throat to keep up his courage.
The white looks of the man, the disorder of the room, the glare of the many lights, and the real danger of the situation, communicated their thrill to Garvington. He s.h.i.+vered and looked into shadowy corners, as Silver did; then strove to rea.s.sure both himself and his companion.
"Don't worry so," he said, sipping his brandy to keep him up to concert pitch, "I've got an idea which will be good for both of us."
"What is it?" questioned the secretary cautiously. He naturally did not trust the man who had betrayed him.
"Do you know who has inherited Pine's money?"
"No. The person named in the sealed envelope?"
"Exactly, and the person is Mother c.o.c.klesh.e.l.l."
Silver was so amazed that he forgot his fright. "What? Is Gentilla Stanley related to Pine?"
"She's his grandmother, it seems. One of my servants was at the camp to-day and found the gypsies greatly excited over the old cat's windfall."
"Whew!" Silver whistled and drew a deep breath. "If I'd known that, I'd have got round the old woman. But it's too late now since all the fat is on the fire. Mr. Lambert knows too much, and you have confessed what should have been kept quiet."
"I had to save my own skin," said Garvington sullenly. "After all, I had nothing to do with the murder. I never guessed that you were so mixed up in it until Lambert brought that bullet to fit the revolver I lent you."
"And which I gave to Miss Greeby," snapped Silver tartly. "She is the criminal, not me. What a wax she will be in when she learns the truth.
I expect your cousin will have her arrested."
"I don't think so. He has some silly idea in his head about the honor of our name, and won't press matters unless he is forced to."
"Who can force him?" asked Silver, looking more at ease, since he saw a gleam of hope.
"Chaldea! She's death on making trouble."
"Can't we silence her? Remember you swing on my hook."
"No, I don't," contradicted Garvington sharply. "I can't be arrested."
"For forging that letter you can!"
"Not at all. I did not write it to lure Pine to his death, but only wished to maim him."
"That will get you into trouble," insisted Silver, anxious to have a companion in misery.
"It won't, I tell you. There's no one to prosecute. You are the person who is in danger, as you knew Miss Greeby to be guilty, and are therefore an accessory after the fact."
"If Mr. Lambert has the honor of your family at heart he will do nothing," said the secretary hopefully; "for if Miss Greeby is arrested along with me the writing of that letter is bound to come out."
"I don't care. It's worth a million."
"What is worth a million?"
"The exposure. See here, Silver, I hear that Mother c.o.c.klesh.e.l.l is willing to hand over that sum to the person who finds the murderer of her grandson. We know that Miss Greeby is guilty, so why not give her up and earn the money?"
The secretary rose in quivering alarm. "But I'd be arrested also. You said so; you know you said so."
"And I say so again," remarked Garvington, leaning back coolly. "You'd not be hanged, you know, although she would. A few years in prison would be your little lot and when you came out I could give you say--er--er--ten thousand pounds. There! That's a splendid offer."
"Where would you get the ten thousand? Tell me!" asked Silver with a curious look.
"From the million Mother c.o.c.klesh.e.l.l would hand over to me."
"For denouncing me?"
"For denouncing Miss Greeby."
"You beast!" shrieked Silver hysterically. "You know quite well that if she is taken by the police I have no chance of escaping. I'd run away now if I had the cash. But I haven't. I count on your cousin keeping quiet because of your family name, and you shan't give the show away."
"But think," said Garvington, persuasively, "a whole million."
"For you, and only ten thousand for me. Oh, I like that."
"Well, I'll make it twenty thousand."
"No! no."
"Thirty thousand."
"No! no! no!"
"Forty, fifty, sixty, seventy--oh, hang it, you greedy beast! I'll give you one hundred thousand. You'd be rich for life then."
"Would I, curse you!" Silver clenched his fists and backed against the wall looking decidedly dangerous. "And risk a life-long sentence to get the money while you take the lion's share."
"You'd only get ten years at most," argued the visitor, annoyed by what he considered to be silly objections.
"Ten years are ten centuries at my time of life. You shan't denounce me."
Garvington rose. "Yes, I shall," he declared, rendered desperate by the dread lest he should lose the million. "I'm going to Wanbury to-night to tell Inspector Darby and get a warrant for Miss Greeby's arrest along with yours as her accomplice."
Silver flung himself forward and gripped Garvington's coat. "You daren't!"
"Yes, I dare. I can't be hurt. I didn't murder the man and I'm not going to lose a pile of money for your silly scruples."
"Oh, my lord, consider." Silver in a panic dropped on his knees. "I shall be shut up for years; it will kill me; it will kill me! And you don't know what a terrible and clever woman Miss Greeby is. She may deny that I gave her the revolver and I can't prove that I did. Then I might be accused of the crime and hanged. Hanged!" cried the poor wretch miserably. "Oh, you'll never give me away, my lord, will you."
"Confound you, don't I risk my reputation to get the money," raged Garvington, shaking off the trembling arms which were round his knees.
"The truth of the letter will have to come out, and then I'm dished so far as society is concerned. I wouldn't do it--tell that is--but that the stakes are so large. One million is waiting to be picked up and I'm going to pick it up."
"No! no! no! no!" Silver grovelled on the floor and embraced Garvington's feet. But the more he wailed the more insulting and determined did the visitor become. Like all tyrants and bullies Garvington gained strength and courage from the increased feebleness of his victim. "Don't give me up," wept the secretary, nearly beside himself with terror; "don't give me up."