mind was much disturbed, and he told me he had passed the whole night in prayer.  Without acquainting me with his desperate design, I gathered from what he said, that he meditated some fearful act, and that he considered his own life in great jeopardy.  If he fell, and he anticipated he should fall, he committed his daughter to my care; and he gave me a written injunction, wherein, as you will find, his blessing is bestowed upon her for obedience to him, and his curse laid upon her in the event of a breach of duty; commanding her, by all her hopes of happiness hereafter, to fulfil the solemn promise he had made me—­provided I should claim her hand within a twelvemonth of his death.  The unfortunate man, as you know, died within two days of that interview, having, as I have since ascertained, reiterated the same solemn charge, and in terms equally impressive, to his daughter.”

“A strange story truly,” observed Sir Francis, who had listened attentively to the relation; “but though Aveline may consent to be bound by her father’s promise to you, I see not how Lean enforce the claim.”

“Hugh Calveley, when dying, disclosed no name to his daughter,” said Sir Giles.  “There is no name mentioned in the paper confided by him to Lanyere; and, possessed of that authority, you will represent the party entitled to make the claim, and can act as Lanyere would have acted.”

“She will not resist the demand,” said the promoter.  “That I can avouch, for I overheard her declare as much to Sir Jocelyn.”

“If such be the case, I am content,” cried the old usurer.  “Give me the authority,” he added to Lanyere.

“I have it with me, Sir Francis,” rejoined the promoter; “but Sir Giles will explain to you that there is something to be done before I can yield it to you.”

“What does he require?” asked the old usurer, glancing uneasily at his partner.

“Merely all these title-deeds of the Mounchensey estates in exchange for that paper,” replied Sir Giles.

“Not merely the deeds,” said Lanyere; “but an assignment on your part, Sir Giles, and on yours, Sir Francis, of all your joint interest in those estates.  I must have them absolutely secured to me; and stand precisely as you stand towards them.”

“You shall have all you require,” replied Mompesson.

“Amazement!” exclaimed Sir Francis.  “Can you really mean to relinquish this noble property to him, Sir Giles?  I thought I was assigning my share to you, and little dreamed that the whole estates would be made over in this way.”

“I have told you, Sir Francis,” rejoined the other, “that vengeance—­ample, refined vengeance—­cannot be too dearly purchased; and you will now perceive that I am willing to pay as extravagantly as yourself for the gratification of a whim.  On no other terms than these would Lanyere consent to part with the authority he possesses, which while it will ensure you the hand of Aveline, will ensure me the keenest revenge upon Sir Jocelyn.  I have therefore acceded to his terms.  Thou hast got a rare bargain, Lanyere; and when the crack-brained Puritan gave thee that paper, he little knew the boon he bestowed upon thee.”