"that's an impertinent young puppy," said septimus jones as soon as the fly which was to carry harry annesley to the station had left the hall-door on the following morning. it may be presumed that mr. jones would not thus have expressed himself unless his friend augustus scarborough had dropped certain words in conversation in regard to harry to the same effect. and it may be presumed also that augustus would not have dropped such words without a purpose of letting his friend know that harry was to be abused. augustus scarborough had made up his mind, looking at the matter all round, that more was to be got by abusing harry than by praising him.
"the young man has a good opinion of himself certainly."
"he thinks himself to be a deal better than anybody else," continued jones, "whereas i for one don't see it. and he has a way with him of pretending to be quite equal to his companions, let them be who they may, which to me is odious. he was down upon you and down upon your father. of course your father has made a most fraudulent attempt; but what the devil is it to him?" the other young man made no answer, but only smiled. the opinion expressed by mr. jones as to harry annesley had only been a reflex of that felt by augustus scarborough. but the reflex, as is always the case when the looking-glass is true, was correct.
scarborough had known harry annesley for a long time, as time is counted in early youth, and had by degrees learned to hate him thoroughly. he was a little the elder, and had at first thought to domineer over his friend. but the friend had resisted, and had struggled manfully to achieve what he considered an equality in friendship. "now, scarborough, you may as well take it once for all that i am not going to be talked down. if you want to talk a fellow down you can go to walker, brown, or green. then when you are tired of the occupation you can come back to me." it was thus that annesley had been wont to address his friend. but his friend had been anxious to talk down this special young man for special purposes, and had been conscious of some weakness in the other's character which he thought entitled him to do so. but the weakness was not of that nature, and he had failed. then had come the rivalry between mountjoy and harry, which had seemed to augustus to be the extreme of impudence. from of old he had been taught to regard his brother mountjoy as the first of young men—among commoners; the first in prospects and the first in rank; and to him florence mountjoy had been allotted as a bride. how he had himself learned first to envy and then to covet this allotted bride need not here be told. but by degrees it had come to pass that augustus had determined that his spendthrift brother should fall under his own power, and that the bride should be the reward. how it was that two brothers, so different in character, and yet so alike in their selfishness, should have come to love the same girl with a true intensity of purpose, and that harry annesley, whose character was essentially different, and who was in no degree selfish, should have loved her also, must be left to explain itself as the girl's character shall be developed. but florence mountjoy had now for many months been the cause of bitter dislike against poor harry in the mind of augustus scarborough. he understood much more clearly than his brother had done who it was that the girl really preferred. he was ever conscious, too, of his own superiority,—falsely conscious,—and did feel that if harry's character were really known, no girl would in truth prefer him. he could not quite see harry with florence's eyes nor could he see himself with any other eyes but his own.
then had come the meeting between mountjoy and harry annesley in the street, of which he had only such garbled account as mountjoy himself had given him within half an hour afterward. from that story, told in the words of a drunken man,—a man drunk, and bruised, and bloody, who clearly did not understand in one minute the words spoken in the last,—augustus did learn that there had been some great row between his brother and harry annesley. then mountjoy had disappeared,—had disappeared, as the reader will have understood, with his brother's co-operation,—and harry had not come forward, when inquiries were made, to declare what he knew of the occurrences of that night. augustus had narrowly watched his conduct, in order at first that he might learn in what condition his brother had been left in the street, but afterward with the purpose of ascertaining why it was that harry had been so reticent. then he had allured harry on to a direct lie, and soon perceived that he could afterward use the secret for his own purpose.
"i think we shall have to see what that young man's about, you know," he said afterward to septimus jones.
"yes, yes, certainly," said septimus. but septimus did not quite understand why it was that they should have to see what the young man was about.
"between you and me, i think he means to interfere with me, and i do not mean to stand his interference."
"i should think not."
"he must go back to buston, among the bustonians, or he and i will have a stand-up fight of it. i rather like a stand-up fight."
"just so. when a fellow's so bumptious as that he ought to be licked."
"he has lied about mountjoy," said augustus. then jones waited to be told how it was that harry had lied. he was aware that there was some secret unknown to him, and was anxious to be informed. was harry aware of mountjoy's hiding-place, and if so, how had he learned it? why was it that harry should be acquainted with that which was dark to all the world besides? jones was of opinion that the squire knew all about it, and thought it not improbable that the squire and augustus had the secret in their joint keeping. but if so, how should harry annesley know anything about it? "he has lied like the very devil," continued augustus, after a pause.
"has he, now?"
"and i don't mean to spare him."
"i should think not." then there was a pause, at the end of which jones found himself driven to ask a question: "how has he lied?" augustus smiled and shook his head, from which the other man gathered that he was not now to be told the nature of the lie in question. "a fellow that lies like that," said jones, "is not to be endured."
"i do not mean to endure him. you have heard of a young lady named miss mountjoy, a cousin of ours?"
"mountjoy's miss mountjoy?" suggested jones.
"yes, mountjoy's miss mountjoy. that, of course, is over. mountjoy has brought himself to such a pass that he is not entitled to have a miss mountjoy any longer. it seems the proper thing that she shall pass, with the rest of the family property, to the true heir."
"you marry her!"
"we need not talk about that just at present. i don't know that i've made up my mind. at any rate, i do not intend that harry annesley shall have her."
"i should think not."
"he's a pestilential cur, that has got himself introduced into the family, and the sooner we get quit of him the better. i should think the young lady would hardly fancy him when she knows that he has lied like the very devil, with the object of getting her former lover out of the way."
"by jove, no, i should think not!"
"and when the world comes to understand that harry annesley, in the midst of all these inquiries, knows all about poor mountjoy,—was the last to see him in london,—and has never come forward to say a word about him, then i think the world will be a little hard upon the immaculate harry annesley. his own uncle has quarrelled with him already."
"what uncle?"
"the gentleman down in hertfordshire, on the strength of whose acres master harry is flaunting it about in idleness. i have my eyes open and can see as well as another. when harry lectures me about my father and my father about me, one would suppose that there's not a hole in his own coat. i think he'll find that the garment is not altogether water-tight." then augustus, finding that he had told as much as was needful to septimus jones, left his friend and went about his own family business.
on the next morning septimus jones took his departure, and on the day following augustus followed him. "so you're off?" his father said to him when he came to make his adieux.
"well, yes; i suppose so. a man has got so many things to look after which he can't attend to down here."
"i don't know what they are, but you understand it all. i'm not going to ask you to stay. does it ever occur to you that you may never see me again?"
"what a question!"
"it's one that requires an answer, at any rate."
"it does occur to me; but not at all as probable."
"why not probable?"
"because there's a telegraph wire from tretton to london; and because the journey down here is very short. it also occurs to me to think so from what has been said by sir william brodrick. of course any man may die suddenly."
"especially when the surgeons have been at him."
"you have your sister with you, sir, and she will be of more comfort to you than i can be. your condition is in some respects an advantage to you. these creditors of mountjoy can't force their way in upon you."
"you are wrong there."
"they have not done so."
"nor should they, though i were as strong as you. what are mountjoy's creditors to me? they have not a scrap of my handwriting in their possession. there is not one who can say that he has even a verbal promise from me. they never came to me when they wanted to lend him money at fifty per cent. did they ever hear me say that he was my heir?"
"perhaps not."
"not one has ever heard it. it was not to them i lied, but to you and to grey. d–––– the creditors! what do i care for them, though they be all ruined?"
"not in the least."
"why do you talk to me about the creditors? you, at any rate, know the truth." then augustus quitted the room, leaving his father in a passion. but, as a fact, he was by no means assured as to the truth. he supposed that he was the heir; but might it not be possible that his father had contrived all this so as to save the property from mountjoy and that greedy pack of money-lenders? grey must surely know the truth. but why should not grey be deceived on the second event as well as the first. there was no limit, augustus sometimes thought, to his father's cleverness. this idea had occurred to him within the last week, and his mind was tormented with reflecting what might yet be his condition. but of one thing he was sure, that his father and mountjoy were not in league together. mountjoy at any rate believed himself to have been disinherited. mountjoy conceived that his only chance of obtaining money arose from his brother. the circumstances of mountjoy's absence were, at any rate, unknown to his father.
