Page:The Death-Doctor.djvu/207

Rh help me, doctor, and you shall be paid for so doing. Listen to me. I've got my money in this house—but hush—let us talk in whispers—no one must hear us."

He bent over close to my ear and dropped his voice.

"Not a word to a soul, doctor. They think the poor old man has money. So he has," and here he gave another of his eerie cackles. "But they don't know how much. I love it, man, and Polly shall have it—but she doesn't know anything."

I had a shrewd idea that Polly did know something. But how much, I had to find out.

"Come with me, doctor," continued the old man.

He hobbled out of the room, his stick in one hand, a guttering candle in the other.

I followed with joy in my heart. I had at last achieved my end, at the cost of many a weary evening.

He reached the end of the corridor, opened a door which let in a rush of air, and we stepped into an empty stone-floored room, which had once, I thought, been a kitchen. The old man put the candle down on the empty hearth, and looked all around him. "Shut that door," said he, as he opened the