"Tear out a cheque," insisted the other, "it will only cost you a penny, and you will see my meaning in a moment."

The animal, before the insistent direction of the other, hesitated, then with a laugh he tore out a cheque.

"Now place it on the table."

Voles placed it on the table.

Jones going to the bureau fetched a pen and ink. He pushed a chair to the table, and made the other sit down.

"Now," said Jones, "write me out a cheque for eight thousand pounds."

Voles threw the pen down with a laugh--it was his last in that room.

"You won't?" said Jones.

"Oh, quit this fooling," replied the other. "I've no time for such stuff--what are you doing now?"

"Ringing the bell," said Jones.

Voles, just about to pick up the cheque, paused. He seemed to find himself at fault for a moment. The jungle beast, that hears the twig crack beneath the foot of the man with the express rifle, pauses like that over his b.l.o.o.d.y meal on the carca.s.s of the decoy goat.

The door opened and a servant appeared, it was the miracle with calves.

"Send out at once, and bring in an officer--a policeman," said Jones.

"Yes, my Lord."

The door shut.

Voles jumped up, and seized his hat. Jones walked to the door and locked it, placing the key in his pocket.

"I've got you," said he, "and I'm going to squeeze you, and I'm going to make you squeal."

"You're going to--you're going to--you're going to--" said Voles. He was the colour of old ivory.

"I'm going to make you go through this--"

"Here, d--n this nonsense--stop it--you fool, I'll smash you," said Voles. "Here, open that door and stop this business."

"I told you I was going to make you squeal," said Jones, "but that's nothing to what's coming."

Voles came to the table and put down his hat. Then, facing Jones, he rapped with the knuckles of his right hand on the table.

"You've done it now," said he, "you've laid yourself open to a nice charge, false imprisonment, that's what you've done. A nice thing in the papers to-morrow morning, and intimidation on top of that. Over and above those there's the papers. _I'll_ have no mercy--those papers go to Lord Plinlimon to-morrow morning, you'll be in the divorce court this day month, and so will she. Reputation! she won't have a rag to cover herself with."

"Oh, won't she?" said Jones. "This is most interesting." He felt a great uplift of the heart. So this blackmail business had to do with a woman.

The idea that Rochester was some horrible form of criminal had weighed upon him. It had seemed to him that no man would pay such a huge sum as eight thousand pounds in the way of blackmail unless his crime were in proportion. Rochester had evidently paid it to shield not only his own name, but the name of a woman.

"Most interesting," said Voles. "I'm glad you think so--" Then in a burst, "Come, open that door and stop this nonsense--take that key out of your pocket and open the door. You always were a fool, but this is beyond folly--the pair of you are in the hollow of my hand, you know it--I can crush you like that--like that--like that!"

He opened and shut his right hand. A cruel hand it was, hairy as to the back, huge as to the thumb.

Jones looked at him.

"You are wasting a lot of muscular energy," said he. "My determination is made, and it holds. You are going to prison, Mr. Filthy Beast, Voles.

I'm up against you, that's the plain truth. I'm going to cut you open, and show your inside to the British Public. They'll be so lost in admiration at the sight, they won't bother about the woman or me.

They'll call us public benefactors, I reckon. You know men, and you know when a man is determined. Look at me, look at me in the face, you sumph--"

A knock came to the door.

Jones took the key from his pocket and opened the door.

"The constable is here, my Lord," said the servant.

"Tell him to come in," said Jones.

Voles had taken up his hat again, and he stood now by the table, hat in hand, looking exactly what he was, a criminal on his defence.

The constable was a fresh-looking and upstanding young man; he had removed his helmet and was carrying it by the chin strap. He had no bludgeon, no revolver, yet he impressed Jones almost as much as he impressed the other.

"Officer," said Jones. "I have called you in for the purpose of giving this man in charge for attempting--"

"Stop," cried Voles.

Then something Oriental in his nature took charge of him. He rushed forward with arms out, as though to embrace the policeman.

"It is all a mistake," cried he, "constable, one moment, go outside one moment, leave me with his lordship. I will explain. There is nothing wrong, it is all a big mistake."

The constable held him off, glancing for orders at Jones.

Jones felt no vindictiveness towards Voles now; disgust, such as he might have felt towards a vulture or a cormorant, but no vindictiveness.

He wanted that eight thousand pounds.

He had determined to make good in his new position, to fight the world that Rochester had failed to fight, and overcome the difficulties sure to be ahead of him. Voles was the first great difficulty, and lo, it seemed, that he was about not only to destroy it, but turn it to a profit. He did not want the eight thousand for himself, he wanted it for the game; and the fascination of that great game he was only just beginning to understand.

"Go outside, officer," said he to the constable.

He shut the door. "Sit down and write," said he. Voles said not a word.

He went to the table, sat down and picked up the pen. The cheque was still lying there. He drew it towards him. Then he flung the pen down.

Then he picked it up, but he did not write. He waved it between finger and thumb, as though he were beating time to a miniature orchestra staged on the table before him. Then he began to write.

He was making out a cheque to the Earl of Rochester for the sum of eight thousand pounds, no shillings, no pence.

He signed it A. S. Voles.

He was about to cross it, but Jones stopped him. "Leave it open," said he, "and now one thing more, I must have those papers to-morrow morning without fail. And to make certain of them you must do this."