'You need not sneer, you fool!' Pomeroy cried with a little spirt of
rage.' 'Tis no harder than to get her here.' 'Where will you take her?' 'To Tamplin's farm by the river. There, you are no wiser, but you may
trust me. I can hang the man, and the woman is no better. They have done
this sort of thing before. Once get her there, and, sink me! she'll be
glad to see the parson!' The tutor shuddered. The water was growing very deep. 'I'll have no part
in it!' he said hoarsely. 'No part in it, so help me God!' 'There's no part for you!' Mr. Pomeroy answered with grim patience.
'Your part is to thwart me.' Mr. Thomasson, half risen from his chair, sat down again. 'What do you
mean?' he muttered.
'You are her friend. Your part is to help her to escape. You're to sneak
to her room to-morrow, and tell her that you'll steal the key when I'm
drunk after dinner. You'll bid her be ready at eleven, and you'll let
her out, and have a chaise waiting at the end of the avenue. The chaise
will be there, you'll put her in, you'll go back to the house. I suppose
you see it now?' The tutor stared in wonder. 'She'll get away,' he said.
'Half a mile,' Mr. Pomeroy answered drily, as he filled his glass.' Then
I shall stop the chaise--with a pistol if you like, jump in--a merry
surprise for the nymph; and before twelve we shall be at Tamplin's. And
you'll be free of it.' Mr. Thomasson pondered, his face flushed, his eyes moist. 'I think you
are the devil!' he said at last.
'Is it a bargain? And see here. His lordship has gone silly on the girl.
You can tell him before he leaves what you are going to do. He'll leave
easy, and you'll have an evidence--of your good intentions!' Mr. Pomeroy
added with a chuckle. 'Is it a bargain?' 'I'll not do it!' Mr. Thomasson cried faintly. 'I'll not do it!' But he sat down again, their heads came together across the table; they
talked long in low voices. Presently Mr. Pomeroy fetched pen and paper
from a table in one of the windows; where they lay along with one or two
odd volumes of Crebillon, a tattered Hoyle on whist, and Foote's jest
book. A note was written and handed over, and the two rose.
Mr. Thomasson would have liked to say a word before they parted as to no
violence being contemplated or used; something smug and fair-seeming
that would go to show that his right hand did not understand what his
left was doing. But even his impudence was unequal to the task, and with
a shamefaced good-night he secured the memorandum in his pocket-book and
sneaked up to bed.