one were to judge by the appearance the master of Mardykes presented,
very grave surmises as to impending violence would have suggested
themselves; but though he clutched his cane so hard that it quivered in
his grasp, he had no notion of committing the outrage of a blow. The
Baronet was unusually angry notwithstanding, and stopping short about
three steps away, addressed Feltram with a pale face and gleaming eyes.
It was quite plain that there was something very exciting upon his mind.

"I've been looking for you, Mr. Feltram; I want a word or two, if you
have done your--your--whatever it is." He whisked the point of his stick
towards the modest tea-tray. "I should like five minutes in the
library."

The Baronet was all this time eyeing Feltram with a hard suspicious
gaze, as if he expected to read in his face the shrinkings and
trepidations of guilt; and then turning suddenly on his heel he led the
way to his library--a good long march, with a good many turnings. He
walked very fast, and was not long in getting there. And as Sir Bale
reached the hearth, on which was smouldering a great log of wood, and
turned about suddenly, facing the door, Philip Feltram entered.

The Baronet looked oddly and stern--so oddly, it seemed to Feltram, that
he could not take his eyes off him, and returned his grim and somewhat
embarrassed gaze with a stare of alarm and speculation.

And so doing, his step was shortened, and grew slow and slower, and came
quite to a stop before he had got far from the door--a wide stretch of
that wide floor still intervening between him and Sir Bale, who stood
upon the hearthrug, with his heels together and his back to the fire,
cane in hand, like a drill-sergeant, facing him.

"Shut that door, please; that will do; come nearer now. I don't want to
bawl what I have to say. Now listen."

The Baronet cleared his voice and paused, with his eyes upon Feltram.

"It is only two or three days ago," said he, "that you said you wished
you had a hundred pounds. Am I right?"

"Yes; I think so."

"_Think_? you know it, sir, devilish well. You said that you wished to
get away. I have nothing particular to say against that, more especially
now. Do you understand what I say?"

"Understand, Sir Bale? I do, sir--quite."

"I daresay quite" he repeated with an angry sneer. "Here, sir, is an odd
coincidence: you want a hundred pounds, and you can't earn it, and you
can't borrow it--there's another way, it seems-