alehouse at Penycumwick in the company of Jasper Leigh. A course had
occurred to him, as the only course now possible. Last night his
brother had muttered something of going to Killigrew with his proofs
since Rosamund refused to receive him. Through Killigrew he would reach
her, he had said; and he would yet see her on her knees craving his
pardon for the wrong she had done him, for the cruelty she had shown
him.

Lionel knew that Killigrew was absent from home just then; but he was
expected to return by Easter, and to Easter there was but a week.
Therefore he had little time in which to act, little time in which to
execute the project that had come into his mind. He cursed himself for
conceiving it, but held to it with all the strength of a weak nature.

Yet when he came to sit face to face with Jasper Leigh in that little
inn-parlour with the scrubbed table of plain deal between them, he
lacked the courage to set his proposal forth. They drank sherry sack
stiffly laced with brandy by Lionel's suggestion, instead of the more
customary mulled ale. Yet not until he had consumed the best part of a
pint of it did Lionel feel himself heartened to broaching his loathsome
business. Through his head hummed the words his brother had said some
time ago when first the name of Jasper Leigh had passed between them--"
a desperate adventurer ripe for anything. So the price be high enough
you may buy him body and soul." Money enough to buy Jasper Leigh was
ready to Lionel's hand; but it was Sir Oliver's money--the money that
was placed at Lionel's disposal by his half-brother's open-handed
bounty. And this money he was to employ for Oliver's utter ruin! He
cursed himself for a filthy, contemptible hound; he cursed the foul
fiend that whispered such suggestions into his mind; he knew himself,
despised himself and reviled himself until he came to swear to be strong