He paid over to his father the rents from Folking, but he had the house and home-farm for nothing.  And the sum which he had received for Polyeuka by no means represented all his savings.  He did not like to think that he had denuded this man who had been his partner of everything in order that he himself might be unnecessarily rich.  It was not pleasant to him to think that the fatness of his opulence had been extracted from Jack Adamson and from—­Euphemia Smith.  When the application for return of the money had been first made to him from Australia, he hadn’t known what he knew now.  There had been no eloquence then,—­no expostulation.  Now he thoroughly wished that he was able to make restitution.  ‘A threat has been used to me,’ he muttered almost anxious to explain to the man his exact position.

’A threat!  I ain’t threatened nothing.  But I tell you there will be threats and worse than threats.  Fair means first and foul means afterwards!  That’s about it, Caldigate.’

If he could have got this man to say that there was no threat, to be simply piteous, he thought that he might even yet have suggested some compromise.  But that was impossible when he was told that worse than threats was in store for him.  He was silent for some moments, thinking whether it would not be better for him to rush into that matter of Euphemia Smith himself.  But up to this time he had no absolute knowledge that Crinkett was aware of the letter which had been written.  No doubt that in speaking of ‘another’ as being joined with himself and Adamson he had intended that Euphemia Smith should be understood.  But till her name had been mentioned, he could not bring himself to mention it.  He could not bring himself to betray the fear which would become evident if he spoke of the woman.

‘I think you had better go to my lawyer,’ he said.

’We don’t want no lawyering.  The plunder is yours, no doubt.  Whether you’ll have so much law on your side in other matters,—­that’s the question.’  Crinkett did not in the least understand the state of his companion’s mind.  To Crinkett it appeared that Caldigate was simply anxious to save his money.

’I do not know that I can say anything else to you just at present.  The bargain was a fair bargain, and you have no ground for any claim.  You come to me with some mysterious threat------’

‘You understand,’ said Crinkett.

’I care nothing for your threats.  I can only bid you go and do your worst.’

‘That’s what we intend.’

‘That you should have lost money by me is a great sorrow to me.’

‘You look sorry, squire.’

’But after what you have said, I can make you no offer.  If you will go to my brother-in-law, Mr. Robert Bolton—­’

‘That’s the lady’s brother?’

‘My wife’s brother.’