"
Francis took the papers and glanced them through.
"Supposing I buy this document from you," he said, "what is its
actual value? You could write out another confession, get that
signed, and sell it to another of Sir Timothy's enemies, or you
could still go to Scotland Yard yourself."
"I shouldn't do that, sir, I assure you," the man declared
nervously, "not on my solemn oath. I want simply to be quit of
the whole matter and have a little money for the child."
Francis considered for a moment.
"There is only one way I can see," he said, "to make this
document worth the money to me. If you will sign a confession
that any statement you have made as to the death of Mr. Hilditch
is entirely imaginary, that you did not see Sir Timothy in the
house that night, that you went to bed at your usual time and
slept until you were awakened, and that you only made this charge
for the purpose of extorting money--if you will sign a confession
to that effect and give it me with these papers, I will pay you
the two hundred pounds and I will never use the confession unless
you repeat the charge."
"I'll do it, sir," the man assented.
Francis drew up a document, which his visitor read through and
signed. Then he wrote out an open cheque.
"My servant shall take you to the bank in a taxi," he said.
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