Marsden stood over them. He could not leave the table now.

"Then here we are. All in order," said Collins, as he spread out his parchment and glanced at Mrs. Marsden. "I suppose, strictly speaking, it should be ladies first. But as the pen is close to your hand, Mr.

Marsden--will you, sir, open the ball?"

"Oh, that's the conveyance for the sale, eh? Where do I sign?"

"There--against the seal--over the pencil marks.... And I'll witness your signature."

Then Mr. Marsden duly signed his name, and repeated the formula as prompted by Collins.

"I deliver it as my act and deed.... Now, Jane!"

Mrs. Marsden had not stirred from her seat.

"Don't put down your pen, Richard. There's the other deed to sign. Mr.

Prentice is ready for you."

"All right--but you come and sign the conveyance;" and he moved to Mr.

Prentice's end of the table. "I ought to read this--but I suppose I may take it as read."

"Oh, yes, I think so," said Mr. Prentice.

"It's exactly the same as the draft that I pa.s.sed?"

"Yes, of course."

"I may trust you not to have dabbed in something artful that I'd never heard of?"

"You had better read it," said Prentice curtly, "if you _can't_ trust me."

"Oh, that's all right;" and Marsden laughed. "Now then--where do you want my autograph?"

Still chuckling, he affixed his signature; and, he smiled good-humouredly while the witness filled the attestation s.p.a.ce.

Mrs. Marsden had come to the table, and was pulling off a rusty black glove.

"There you are," said her husband. "The conveyance first, Jane."

"No," said Mrs. Marsden, looking at him resolutely. "I'll sign this deed first. It's the one I'm most interested in;" and she turned to Mr.

Prentice. "But I must try the pen. Kindly let me have a bit of paper."

Mr. Prentice fetched a half sheet of note-paper from his desk, and handed it to her.

"Thank you." Stooping over the table, she tested the pen by scribbling a few words. Then she executed the deed; and, while Mr. Fielding was being good enough to write his name and address as witness, she gave the half-leaf of paper to Mr. Prentice.

"Now then," said Marsden. "Look sharp. Don't be all night about it." He had gone to the other end of the table, and he waited anxiously to see the conveyance completed.

Mr. Prentice was reading Mrs. Marsden's scribbled words. He looked at her, and she pointed with her pen. She had written: "Lock the deed in your safe, and put the keys in your pocket."

"Now I am ready, Richard."

But still she did not sign. She was watching Mr. Prentice. The door of the safe shut with a faint, dull clank, and Mr. Prentice locked the door and took out the keys.

Then Mrs. Marsden signed the conveyance, and Fielding obligingly witnessed her signature.

"Thank you," she said; and, returning to her chair between the windows, she sat down again.

"That's done," said Collins; and he called to the bank clerk, who had been patiently waiting in a corner of the room. "Mr. Fielding will go back with you. This doc.u.ment is to be put away with Mr. Bence's papers.

My compliments to the manager. He knows all about it."

"But," said Marsden, "doesn't Mr. Bence sign it?"

"It isn't necessary," said Collins.

"Are you sure?" And Marsden looked at Bence suspiciously.

"He can sign it at his convenience," said Collins, "if he ever wishes to do so.... Run along, young fellows. My compliments to the manager;" and he addressed Marsden with extreme facetiousness. "We pay on this--so you can be quite sure we are not deceiving you. The money _talks_. You can take it whenever you please.... Ah! I see--you're not slow about that."

And in fact, without waiting for Mr. Collins to conclude his invitation, Marsden had pushed aside the ink-stand and picked up the notes. One bundle he unceremoniously thrust into the breast pocket of his coat; and now with a licked finger he was separating the edges of the other bundle.

"Stop," said Mr. Prentice. "What are you doing? Allow me, please;" and he held out his hand. "I will attend to this."

Marsden, without surrendering the notes, explained matters in a confidential whisper.

"Fifteen hundred goes to her, and the rest to me."

"Indeed it doesn't," said Prentice warmly.

"It's all right," said Marsden. "It was arranged between her and me."

"But I know nothing of any such arrangement. I can't permit it for a moment."

"_You_ can't permit it!" said Marsden indignantly. "What the d.i.c.kens has it got to do with you?"

Mr. Collins, with an a.s.sumption of tactful delicacy, had pushed back his chair. "Excuse me. This is a private conversation. I hasten to withdraw." And he went across to Archibald Bence and Mrs. Marsden, and talked to them in a rapid undertone.

Mr. Prentice went on protesting; and Marsden, cutting him short, called loudly to his wife.

"Jane, tell him that it is all right."

"Yes," she said. "Quite all right, Mr. Prentice."

"Oh, you mean that you are giving him a present of fifteen hundred pounds?"

"It's not a present," said Marsden.

"No," said Mrs. Marsden, "it was a bargain."

"Between ourselves, and concerning n.o.body else;" and Marsden glared at Mr. Prentice.