‘What do you propose?’

’Make the money payable in bills to their joint order at Sydney.  They don’t want to be wasting any more time here.  They’ll start at once.  This is the 12th April, isn’t it?  Tuesday the 12th?’ Caldigate assented.  ’The old Goldfinder leaves Plymouth this day week.’  From this he was sure that Bollum had heard all the story from Euphemia Smith herself, or he would not have talked of the ‘old’ Goldfinder.  ’Let them have the bills handed to them on board, and they’ll go.  Let me have the duplicates here.  You can remit the money by July to your agents,—­to take up the bills when due.  Just let me be with you when the order is given to your banker in London, and everything will be done.  It’s as easy as kiss.’

Caldigate sat silent, turning it over in his own mind, trying to determine what would be best.  Here was another opportunity.  But it was one as to which he must come to a decision on the spur of the moment.  He must deal with the man now or never.  The twenty thousand pounds were nothing.  Had there been no question about his wife, he would have paid the money, moved by that argument as to his ’old pals,’—­by the conviction that the result of his dealing with them had in truth been to leave them ‘as bare as the palm of his hand.’  They were welcome to the money; and if by giving the money he could save his Hester, how great a thing it would be!  Was it not his duty to make the attempt?  And yet there was in his bosom a strong aversion to have any secret dealing with such a man as this,—­to have any secret dealing in such a matter.  To buy off witnesses in order that his wife’s name and his boy’s legitimacy might be half,—­only half,—­established!  For even though these people should be made absolutely to vanish, though the sea should swallow them, all that had been said would be known, and too probably believed for ever!

And then, too, he was afraid.  If he did this thing alone, without counsel, would he not be putting himself into the hands of these wretches?  Might he not be almost sure that when they had gotten his money they would turn upon him and demand more?  Would not the payment of the money be evidence against him to any jury?  Would it be possible to make judge or jury believe, to make even a friend believe, that in such an emergency he had paid away so large a sum of money because he had felt himself bound to do so by his conscience?

‘Well, squire,’ said Bollum, ’I think you see your way through it; don’t you?’

’I don’t regard the money in the least.  They would be welcome to the money.’

‘That’s a great point, anyway.’

‘But—­’

’Ay; but!  You’re afraid they wouldn’t go.  You come down to Plymouth, and don’t put the bills into their hands or mine till the vessel is under weigh, with them aboard.  Then you and I will step into the boat, and be back ashore.  When they know the money’s been deposited at a bank in London, they’ll trust you as far as that.  The Goldfinder won’t put back again when she’s once off.  Won’t that make it square?’