'Tis well!--'tis well!" he cried, snatching it back
again, as soon as the scrivener had finished the attestation. "All is
done in due form. This deed makes you Lord of Mounchensey, Lanyere." And
he handed it to him.
"And this makes Sir Francis Mitchell ruler of the destiny of Aveline
Calveley," rejoined Lanyere, giving a paper to the old usurer.
"This chest and its contents are yours also, Lanyere," pursued Sir
Giles, putting in the deeds, and locking it. "Will it please you to take
the key. From this moment we cease to be master and servant, and become
equals and friends!"
"Equals, it may be, Sir Giles!" cried Lanyere, drawing himself up to his
full height, and speaking with great haughtiness; "but never friends."
"Ha! what are we, then?" demanded the extortioner, fiercely. "Am I
mistaken in you? Take heed. You are yet in my power."
"Not so, Sir Giles. I have nothing to apprehend from you now," replied
Lanyere; "but you have much to fear from me."
So saying, and placing the parchment within his doublet, he hastily
quitted the chamber.
"Perdition! have I been outwitted?" cried Sir Giles. "But he shall not
escape me." And rushing after him, he called from the head of the great
staircase--"What, ho! Captain Bludder!--and ye, Tom Wootton and Cutting
Dick--let not Lanyere go forth. Stay him and take from him the deed
which he hath placed in his doublet. Cut him down, or stab him if he
resists.
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