"You must not count on any wish of mine to suppress evidence or remove a witness. But name your price for the information."
"In that case I must be paid the higher for my information. Say, two thousand pounds."
"Two thousand devils!" burst out Harold, throwing himself into his chair again, and turning his shoulder towards Christian. New thoughts crowded upon him. "This fellow may want to decamp for some reason or other," he said to himself. "More people besides Jermyn know about his evidence, it seems. The whole thing may look black for me if it comes out. I shall be believed to have bribed him to run away, whether or not." Thus the outside conscience came in aid of the inner.
"I will not give you one sixpence for your information," he said, resolutely, "until time has made it clear that you do not intend to decamp, but will be forthcoming when you are called for. On those terms I have no objection to give you a note, specifying that after the fulfilment of that condition—that is, after the occurrence of a suit, or the understanding that no suit is to occur—I will pay you a certain sum in consideration of the information you now give me!"
Christian felt himself caught in a vice. In the