"Speak!" said Barnabas.
Yet still no answer came, only Jasper Gaunt sank down in his chair
with his elbows on the desk, his long, white face clasped between
his long, white hands, staring into vacancy; but now his smooth brow
was furrowed, his narrow eyes were narrower yet, and his thin lips
moved as though he had whispered to himself "sixty thousand pounds!"
"Sir,--for the last time--do you accept?" demanded Barnabas.
Without glancing up, or even altering the direction of his vacant
stare, and with his face still framed between his hands, Jasper
Gaunt shook his head from side to side, once, twice, and thrice; a
gesture there was no mistaking.
Then Barnabas fell back a step, with clenched fist upraised, but in
that moment the Captain was before him and had caught his arm.
"By Gad, Beverley!" he exclaimed in a shaken voice, "are you mad?"
"No," said Barnabas, "but I came here to buy those bills, and buy
them I will! If trebling it isn't enough, then--"
"Ah!" cried Slingsby, pointing to the usurer's distorted face,
"can't you see? Don't you guess? He can't sell! No money-lender of
'em all could resist such an offer. I tell you he daren't sell, the
bills aren't his! Come away--"
"Not his!" cried Barnabas, "then whose?"
"God knows! But it's true,--look at him!"
"Tell me," cried Barnabas, striving to see Gaunt's averted eyes,
"tell me who holds these bills,--if you have one spark of
generosity--tell me!"
But Jasper Gaunt gave no sign, only the writhing fingers crept
across his face, over staring eyes and twitching lips.
So, presently, Barnabas suffered Captain Slingsby to lead him from
the room, and down the somewhat dark and winding stair, past the
wizen-faced clock, out into the street already full of the glow of
evening.
"It's a wonder to me," said the Captain, "yes, it's a great wonder
to me, that nobody has happened to kill Gaunt before now."
So the Captain frowned, sighed, and climbed up to his seat. But,
when Barnabas would have followed, Billy Button touched him on the
arm.
"Oh, Barnaby!" said he, "oh, Barnaby Bright, look--the day is dying,
the shadows are coming,--in a little while it will be night. But, oh
Youth, alas! alas! I can see the shadows have touched you already!"
And so, with a quick upflung glance at the dismal house, he turned,
waved his hand, and sped away on noiseless feet, and so was gone.