Jack Harkaways Boy Tinker Among The Turks | Page 6

of that sort about me," said Chivey.
"What is it you require of me?" demanded the notary, getting vexed.
"He's a proud old cove," thought the tiger.
So he drew in his horns and met the notary half way.
"You are just right, Mr. Velasquez," he remarked. "It does concern Jack
Harkaway."
"I knew that."
"Now I want you to give me your promise not to tell what I am going to
say to you, nor to make any use of it without my express permission."
"I promise. Now proceed, for I am pressed for time."
"I will," said the tiger, resolutely.
The notary produced paper and writing materials.
"My master, Mr. Murray, has attempted my life," began Chivey, "and
this is because I am possessed of certain secrets."
"I see."

"He is at the present moment under the idea that he has killed me. Now
what I want is, to make him thoroughly understand that he does not get
out of his difficulty by getting me out of the way, not by any manner of
means at all."
"I see."
"How will you do it?"
"I will go and see him."
Chivey jumped at the idea immediately.
"Yes, sir, that's the sort; there's no letters then to tell tales against us."
"None."
"Get one from him, though, if you can," said Chivey, eagerly;
"something compromising him yet deeper, like."
"I will do it," said Señor Velasquez. "And what will you pay for it?
Give it a price."
"Thirty pounds," returned Chivey, in a feverish state of anxiety.
"I'll do it," returned the notary, with great coolness.
CHAPTER LXII.
HOW SEÑOR VELASQUEZ PLAYED A DEEP GAME WITH
CHIVEY--DOUBLE DEALING--HERBERT MURRAY'S
CHANCE--"HARKAWAY MUST BE PUT AWAY"--A GUILTY
COMPACT--CHIVEY IN DURANCE VILE--THE SICK ROOM
AND THE OPIATE--AN OVERDOSE--THE NOTARY'S
GUARDIAN--THE SPANISH GAROTTE--"TALKING IN YOUR
SLEEP IS A VERY BAD GAME."
Señor Velasquez was any thing but a fool.

Chivey was not soft, but he was not competent to cope with such a
keen spirit as this Spanish notary.
Señor Velasquez walked up to the hotel in which Herbert Murray was
staying, and the first person he chanced to meet was Murray himself.
"I wish to have a word with you in private, Señor Murray," said the
notary.
Murray looked anxiously around him, starting "like a guilty thing upon
a fearful summons."
The bland smile of the Spanish notary reassured him, however.
"What can I do for Señor Velasquez?" he asked.
"I begged for a few words in private," answered Velasquez.
"Take a seat, Señor Velasquez," said Herbert Murray, "and now tell me
how I can serve you," after entering his room.
The notary made himself comfortable in his chair.
"I can speak in safety now?" he said.
"Of course."
"No fear of interruption here?"
The notary looked Murray steadily in the eyes as he said--
"I was thinking of your officious servant."
Herbert Murray changed colour as he faltered--
"Of whom?"
"Chivey, I think you call him--your groom, I mean."

"There is no fear from him now," said Murray, with averted eyes; "not
the least in the world."
Señor Velasquez smiled significantly.
"Your man Chivey," resumed the Spanish notary, "has confided to me a
secret."
"Concerning me?"
"Yes."
"The villain!"
"Now listen to me, Señor Murray. You have behaved very imprudently
indeed. Your whole secret is with me."
Herbert started.
"With you?"
"Yes."
Herbert Murray glanced anxiously at the door.
The notary followed his eyes with some inward anxiety, yet he did not
betray his uneasiness at all.
"He was speaking the truth for once, then," said Murray. "He had
confided his secrets to someone else."
"Yes."
Herbert Murray walked round the room, and took up his position with
his back to the door.
"Señor Velasquez," he said, in a low but determined voice, "you have
made an unfortunate admission. If there is a witness, it is only one; you
are that witness, and your life is in danger."

The notary certainly felt uncomfortable, but he was too old a stager to
display it.
Herbert Murray produced a pistol, which he proceeded to examine and
to cock deliberately.
"That would not advance your purpose much, Señor Murray," he said,
coolly; "the noise would bring all the house trooping into the room."
Murray was quite calm and collected now, and therefore he was open to
reason.
"There is something in that," he said, "so I have a quieter helpmate
here."
He uncocked the pistol and put it in his breast pocket.
Then he whipped out a long Spanish stiletto.
"There are other reasons against using that."
"And they are?"
"Here is one," returned the notary, drawing a long, slender blade from
his sleeve.
Murray was palpably disconcerted at this.
The Spanish notary and the young Englishman stood facing each other
in silence for a considerable time.
The