the Moonbeam. There had been messages, and Mr. Carey
had been very busy endeavouring to persuade the father that he
could benefit neither himself nor his daughter by persistence in so
extravagant a scheme. Money had been offered to Mr. Neefit,--most
unfortunately, and this offer had added to his wrongs. And he had
been told by his wife that Polly had at last decided in regard to her
own affections, and had accepted her old lover, Mr. Moggs. He had
raved at Polly to her face. He had sworn at Moggs behind his back. He
had called Mr. Carey very hard names;--and now he forced himself once
more upon the presence of the young Squire. "Captain," he said, as
soon as he had carefully closed the door behind him, "are you going
to be upon the square?" Newton had given special orders that Neefit
should not be admitted to his presence; but here he was, having made
his way into the chamber in the temporary absence of the Squire's own
servant.

"Mr. Neefit," said Newton, "I cannot allow this."

"Not allow it, Captain?"

"No;--I cannot. I will not be persecuted. I have received favours
from you--"

"Yes, you have, Captain."

"And I will do anything in reason to repay them."

"Will you come out and see our Polly?"

"No, I won't."

"You won't?"

"Certainly not. I don't believe your daughter wants to see me. She
is engaged to another man." So much Mr. Carey had learned from Mrs.
Neefit. "I have a great regard for your daughter, but I will not go
to see her."

"Engaged to another man;--is she?"

"I am told so."

"Oh;--that's your little game, is it? And you won't see me when I
call,--won't you? I won't stir out of this room unless you sends
for the police, and so we'll get it all into one of the courts of
law. I shall just like to see how you'll look when you're being
cross-hackled by one of them learned gents. There'll be a question or
two about the old breeches-maker as the Squire of Newton mayn't like
to see in the papers the next morning. I shall take the liberty of
ringing the bell and ordering a bit of dinner here, if you don't
mind. I shan't go when the police comes without a deal of row, and
then we shall have it all out in the courts."

This was monstrously absurd, but at the same time very annoying.
Even though he should disregard that threat of being "cross-hackled
by a learned gent," and of being afterwards made notorious in the
newspapers,--which it must be confessed he did not find himself able
to disrega