Parrawhite laughed, and flourished a heavy stick which he carried.
"Not a bit of it!" he said, almost pleasantly. "I thought you were more of a philosopherI fancied I'd seen gleamsmere gleamsof philosophy in you at times. Fortunes of war, my boy! Come nowyou've seen enough of me to know I'm an adventurer. This is an adventure of the sort I love. Go into it heart and soul, man! Own up!you've found out that the will leaves the property away from the present holders, and you've been to Normandale tobargain? Come, now!"
"What then!" demanded Pratt.
"Then, of course, I come in at the bargaining," answered Parrawhite. "I'm going to have my share. That's a certainty. You'd better take my advice. Because you're absolutely in my power. I've nothing to do but to tell Eldrick tomorrow morning."
"Suppose I tell Eldrick tomorrow morning of what you've told me?" interjected Pratt.
"Eldrick will believe me before you," retorted Parrawhite, imperturbably. "I'm a much cleverer, more plausible man than you are, my friendI've had an experience of the world which you haven't, I can easily invent a fine excuse for being in that room. For two pins I'll incriminate you! See? Be reasonablefor if it comes to a contest of brains, you haven't a rabbit's chance against a fox. Tell me all about the willand what you've done. You've got tofor, by the Lord Harry!I'm going to have my share. Come, now!"
Pratt stood, in a little hollow wherein they had paused, and thought, rapidly and angrily. There was no doubt about ithe was trapped. This fearful scoundrel at his side, who boasted of his cleverness, would stick to him like a leachhe would have to share. All his own smart schemes for exploiting Mrs. Mallathorpe, for ensuring himself a competence for life, were knocked on the head. There was no helping ithe would have to telland to share. And so, sullenly, resentfully, he told.
Parrawhite listened in silence, taking in every point. Pratt, knowing that concealment was useless, told the truth about everything, concisely, but omitting nothing.
"All right!" remarked Parrawhite at the end, "Now, then, what terms do you mean to insist on?"
"What's the good of going into that?" growled Pratt. "Now that you've stuck your foot in it, what do my terms matter?"
"Quite right," agreed Parrawhite, "They don't. What matter isour terms. Now let me suggestno, insist onwhat they must be. Cash! Do you know why I insist on that? No? Then I'll tell you. Because this young barrister chap, Collingwood, has evidently got some suspicion ofsomething."
"I can't see it," said Pratt uneasily. "He was only curious to know what that letter was about."
"Never mind," continued Parrawhite. "He had some suspicionor he wouldn't have gone out there almost as soon as he reached Barford after his grandfather's death. And even if suspicion is put to sleep for awhile, it can easily be reawakened, socash! We must profit at oncebefore any future risk arises. Butwhat terms were you thinking of?"
"Stewardship of this estate for life," muttered Pratt gloomily.
"With the risk of some discovery being made, some time, any time!" sneered Parrawhite. "Where are your brains, man? The old fellow, John Mallathorpe, probably made a draft or two of that will before he did his fair copyhe may have left those drafts among his papers."
"If he did, Mrs. Mallathorpe 'ud find 'em," said Pratt slowly. "I don't believe there's the slightest risk. I've figured everything out. I don't believe there's any danger from Collingwood or from anybodyit's impossible! And if we take cash nowwe're selling for a penny what we ought to get pounds for."
"The present is much more important than the future, my friend," answered Parrawhite. "To me, at any rate. Now, then, this is my proposal. I'll be with you when this lady calls at your place tomorrow evening. We'll offer her the will, to do what she likes with, for ten thousand pounds. She can find thatquickly. When she paysas she will!we share, equally, and thenwell, you can go to the devil! I shall gosomewhere else. So that's settled."
"No!" said Pratt.
Parrawhite turned sharply, and Pratt saw a sinister gleam in his eyes.
"Did you say no?" he asked.
"I saidno!" replied Pratt. "I'm not going to take five thousand pounds for a chance that's worth fifty thousand. Hang you!if you hadn't been a black sneak-thief, as you are, I'd have had the whole thing to myself! And I don't know that I will give way to you. If it comes to it, my word's as good as yoursand I don't believe Eldrick would believe you before me. Pascoe wouldn't anyway. You've got a past!in quod, I should thinkmy past's all right. I've a jolly good mind to let you do your worstafter all, I've got the will. And by george! now I come to think of it, you can do your worst! Tell what you like tomorrow morning. I shall tell 'em what you area scoundrel."
He turned away at thatand as he turned, Parrawhite, with a queer cry of rage that might have come from some animal which saw its prey escaping, struck out at him with the heavy stick. The blow missed Pratt's head, but it grazed the tip of his ear, and fell slantingly on his left shoulder. And then the anger that had been boiling in Pratt ever since the touch on his arm in the dark lane, burst out in activity, and he turned on his assailant, gripped him by the throat before Parrawhite could move, and after choking and shaking him until his teeth rattled and his breath came in jerking sobs, flung him violently against the masses of stone by which they had been standing.
Pratt was of considerable physical strength. He played cricket and football; he visited a gymnasium thrice a week. His hands had the grip of a blacksmith; his muscles were those of a prize-fighter. He had put more strength than he was aware of into his fierce grip on Parrawhite's throat; he had exerted far more force than he knew he was exerting, when he flung him away. He heard a queer cracking sound as the man struck something, and for the moment he took no notice of itthe pain of that glancing blow on his shoulder was growing acute, and he began to rub it with his free hand and to curse its giver.
"Get up, you fool, and I'll give you some more!" he growled. "I'll teach you to"
He suddenly noticed the curiously still fashion in which Parrawhite was lying where he had flung himnoticed, too, as a cloud passed the moon and left it unveiled, how strangely white the man's face was. And just as suddenly Pratt forgot his own injury, and dropped on his knees beside his assailant. An instant later, and he knew that he was once more confronting death. For Parrawhite was as dead as Antony Bartleviolent contact of his head with a rock had finished what Pratt had nearly completed with that vicious grip. There was no questioning it, no denying itPratt was there in that lonely place, staring half consciously, half in terror, at a dead man.
He stood up at last, cursing Parrawhite with the anger of despair. He had not one scrap of pity for him. All his pity was for himself. That he should have been brought into this!that this vile little beast, perfect scum that he was, should have led him to what might be the utter ruin of his career!it was shameful, it was abominable, it was cruel! He felt as if he could cheerfully tear Parrawhite's dead body to pieces. But even as these thoughts came, others of a more important nature crowded on them. Forthere lay a dead man, who was not to be put in one's pocket, like a will. It was necessary to hide that thing from the lightever that light. Within a few hours, morning would break, and lonely and deserted as that place was nowadays, some one might pass that way. Out of sight with him, then!and quickly.