My master, Mr. Murray, has attempted my life," began Chivey, "and this
is because I am possessed of certain secrets."

"I see."

"He is at the present moment under the idea that he has killed me. Now
what I want is, to make him thoroughly understand that he does not get
out of his difficulty by getting me out of the way, not by any manner
of means at all."

"I see."

"How will you do it?"

"I will go and see him."

Chivey jumped at the idea immediately.

"Yes, sir, that's the sort; there's no letters then to tell tales
against us."

"None."

"Get one from him, though, if you can," said Chivey, eagerly;
"something compromising him yet deeper, like."

"I will do it," said Senor Velasquez. "And what will you pay for it?
Give it a price."

"Thirty pounds," returned Chivey, in a feverish state of anxiety.

"I'll do it," returned the notary, with great coolness.

CHAPTER LXII.

HOW SENOR VELASQUEZ PLAYED A DEEP GAME WITH CHIVEY--DOUBLE DEALING--HERBERT
MURRAY'S CHANCE--"HARKAWAY MUST BE PUT AWAY"--A GUILTY COMPACT--CHIVEY
IN DURANCE VILE--THE SICK ROOM AND THE OPIATE--AN OVERDOSE--THE
NOTARY'S GUARDIAN--THE SPANISH GAROTTE--"TALKING IN YOUR SLEEP IS A
VERY BAD GAME."

Senor Velasquez was any thing but a fool.

Chivey was not soft, but he was not competent to cope with such a keen
spirit as this Spanish notary.

Senor Velasquez walked up to the hotel in which Herbert Murray was
staying, and the first person he chanced to meet was Murray himself.

"I wish to have a word with you in private, Senor Murray," said the
notary.

Murray looked anxiously around him, starting "like a guilty thing upon
a fearful summons."

The bland smile of the Spanish notary reassured him, however.

"What can I do for Senor Velasquez?" he asked.

"I begged for a few words in private," answered Velasquez.

"Take a seat, Senor Velasquez," said Herbert Murray, "and now tell me
how I can serve you," after entering his room.

The notary made himself comfortable in his chair.

"I can speak in safety now?" he said.

"Of course."

"No fear of interruption here?"

The notary looked Murray steadily in the eyes as he said--

"I was thinking of your officious servant."

Herbert Murray changed colour as he faltered--

"Of whom?"

"Chivey, I think you call him--your groom, I mean."

"There is no fear from him now," said Murray, with averted eyes; "not
the least in the world."

Senor Velasquez smiled significant