th each other should be altogether changed,
Mr. Scarborough did not trouble himself to inquire. The captain by his
own reckless folly had lost his money, had lost all that fortune would
have given him as his father's eldest son. After having done so, what
could it matter to him whether he were legitimate or illegitimate? His
brother, as possessor of Tretton Park, would be able to do much more
for him than could be expected from a professional man working for his
bread.

Mr. Scarborough had looked at the matter all round for the space of two
years, and during the latter year had slowly resolved on his line of
action. He had had no scruple in passing off his eldest-born as
legitimate, and now would have none in declaring the truth to the world.
What scruple need he have, seeing that he was so soon about to leave the
world?

As to what took place at that interview between the father and the son
very much was said among the clubs, and in societies to which Captain
Mountjoy Scarborough was well known; but very little of absolute truth
was ever revealed. It was known that Captain Scarborough left the room
under the combined authority of apothecaries and servants, and that the
old man had fainted from the effects of the interview. He had
undoubtedly told the son of the simple facts as he had declared them to
Mr. Grey, but had thought it to be unnecessary to confirm his statement
by any proof. Indeed, the proofs, such as they were,--the written
testimony, that is,--were at that moment in the hands of Mr. Grey, and to
Mr. Grey the father had at last referred the son. But the son had
absolutely refused to believe for a moment in the story, and had
declared that his father and Mr. Grey had conspired together to rob him
of his inheritance and good name. The interview was at last over, and
Mr. Scarborough, at one moment fainting, and in the next suffering the
extremest agony, was left alone with his thoughts.

Captain Scarborough, when he left his father's rooms, and found himself
going out from the Albany into Piccadilly, was an infuriated but at the
same time a most wretched man. He did believe that a conspiracy had been
hatched, and he was resolved to do his best to defeat it, let the effect
be what it might on the property; but yet there was a strong feeling in
his breast that the fraud would be successful. No man could possibly be
environed by worse circumstances as to his own condition. He owed he
knew not what amount of mo