They accordingly entered the room, and the stranger, after they had taken seats, resumed,

“I was going to say, Corbet, that nothing can convince me that you don’t know more about the disappearance of Lady Gourlay’s heir than you are disposed to acknowledge.”

The hard, severe, disagreeable expression returned once more to his features, as he replied,

“Troth, sir, it appears you will believe so, whether or not.  But now, sir, in case I did, what would you say?  I’m talkin’ for supposition’s sake, mind.  Wouldn’t a man desarve something that could give you information on the subject?”

“This avaricious old man,” thought the stranger, pausing as if to consider the proposition, “was holding us out all along, in order to make the most of his information.  The information, however, is already in our possession, and he comes too late.  So far I am gratified that we are in a position to punish him by disappointing his avarice.”

“We would, Corbet, if the information were necessary, but at present it is not; we don’t require it.”

Corbet started, and his keen old eyes gleamed with an expression between terror and incredulity.

“Why,” said he, “you don’t require it!  Are you sure of that?”

“Perfectly so.  Some time ago we would have rewarded you liberally, had you made any available disclosure to us; but now it is too late.  The information we had been seeking for so anxiously, accidentally came to us from another quarter.  You see now, Corbet, how you have overshot the mark, and punished yourself.  Had you been influenced by a principle of common justice, you would have been entitled to expect and receive a most ample compensation; a compensation beyond your hopes, probably beyond your very wishes, and certainly beyond your wants.  As matters stand, however, I tell you now that I would not give you sixpence for any information you could communicate.”

Anthony gave him a derisive look, and pursed up his thin miser-like lips into a grin of most sinister triumph.

“Wouldn’t you, indeed?” said he.  “Are you quite sure of what you say?”

“Quite certain of it.”

“Well, now, how positive some people is.  You have found him out, then?” he asked, with a shrewd look.  “You have found him, and you don’t require any information from me.”

“Whether we have found him or not,” replied the other, “is a question which I will not answer; but that we require no information from you, is fact.  While it was a marketable commodity, you refused to dispose of it; but, now, we have got the supply elsewhere.”

“Well, sir,” said Anthony, “all I can say is, that I’m very glad to hear it; and it’s no harm, surely, to wish you joy of it.”

The same mocking sneer which accompanied this observation was perfectly vexatious; it seemed to say, “So you think, but you may be mistaken, Take care that I haven’t you in my power still.”