"What--do you dare deny it? Do you d-dare deny that you have met
her--by stealth,--do you? do you? Oh, I know of your secret meetings
with her. I know how you have imposed upon the credulity of a
weak-minded old woman and a one-armed d-dotard sufficiently to get
yourself invited to Hawkhurst. But I tell you this shall stop,--it
shall! Yes, by God,--you shall give me your promise to c-cease your
persecution of my sister before you leave this room, or--"
"Or?" said Barnabas.
"Or it will be the w-worse for you!"
"How?"
"I--I'll k-kill you!"
"Murder me?"
"It's no m-murder to kill your sort!"
"Then it _is_ a pistol you have in your pocket, there?"
"Yes--l-look at it!" And, speaking, Barrymaine drew and levelled the
weapon with practised hand. "Now listen!" said he. "You will s-sit
down at that table there, and write Gaunt to g-give me all the time
I need for your c-cursed interest--"
"But I tell you--"
"Liar!" cried Barrymaine, advancing a threatening step. "Liar,--I
know! Then, after you've done that,--you will swear never to see or
c-communicate with my sister again, or I'll shoot you dead where you
stand,--s-so help me God!"
"You are mad," said Barnabas, "I am not your creditor, and--"
"Liar! I know!" repeated Barrymaine.
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