“The exchange would, indeed, seem to be in my favour, Sir Giles,” he said; “but you may believe me when I say, that though I gain these large estates, I would rather have had the damsel.”

“Well, let the business be completed,” said Sir Giles; “and that it may be so with all dispatch, do you, Lanyere, summon Lupo Vulp to us.  You will find him in his chamber, and bid him bring with him the deed of assignment to you of the Mounchensey estates which he has already prepared, and which only requires my signature and that of Sir Francis.”

“I obey you, Sir Giles,” replied Lanyere, departing on the errand.

As soon as they were alone, the old usurer observed to his partner—­“I am lost in astonishment at what you are about to do, Sir Giles.  That I should make a sacrifice for a dainty damsel, whose charms are doubled because she should belong to an enemy, is not surprising; but that you should give up so easily a property you have so long coveted—­I confess I cannot understand it.”

A strange smile crossed the extortioner’s countenance.

“And do you really think I would give it up thus, Sir Francis?” he said.

“But if we sign that deed—­’tis his.  How are you to get it back again?”

“Ask me not how—­I have no time for explanation.  Recollect what I told you of Osmond Mounchensey, and the possibility of his re-appearance.”

“I will not seek to penetrate your scheme, Sir Giles,” observed the old usurer; “but I would have you beware of Lanyere.  He is cunning and determined.”

“He will scarcely prove a match for me, I think,” observed the extortioner—­“but here he comes.”

And as he spoke, the promoter again entered the chamber, followed by Lupo Vulp, with a parchment under his arm.

“Give me the deed, good Lupo,” said Sir Giles, taking it from him.  “It must be first executed by me—­there!—­and now your signature, Sir Francis,” he added, passing the instrument to him.  “Now thou shalt witness it, Lupo.  ’Tis well!—­’tis well!” he cried, snatching it back again, as soon as the scrivener had finished the attestation.  “All is done in due form.  This deed makes you Lord of Mounchensey, Lanyere.”  And he handed it to him.

“And this makes Sir Francis Mitchell ruler of the destiny of Aveline Calveley,” rejoined Lanyere, giving a paper to the old usurer.

“This chest and its contents are yours also, Lanyere,” pursued Sir Giles, putting in the deeds, and locking it.  “Will it please you to take the key.  From this moment we cease to be master and servant, and become equals and friends!”

“Equals, it may be, Sir Giles!” cried Lanyere, drawing himself up to his full height, and speaking with great haughtiness; “but never friends.”

“Ha! what are we, then?” demanded the extortioner, fiercely.  “Am I mistaken in you?  Take heed.  You are yet in my power.”

“Not so, Sir Giles.  I have nothing to apprehend from you now,” replied Lanyere; “but you have much to fear from me.”