compunction,--for it was in Harry's mind
that Mountjoy and his father were in league together to save the
property by rescuing it from the hands of the Jews. He would have
thought the same as to the old squire,--only that the old squire had not
interfered with him in reference to Florence Mountjoy.

And then there was present to his mind the brutal attack which had been
made on himself in the street. According to his views Mountjoy
Scarborough was certainly a blackguard; but he did not feel inclined
quite to say so to the brother, nor was he perfectly certain as to his
host's honesty. It might be that the three Scarboroughs were all in a
league together; and if so, he had done very wrong, as he then
remembered, to say that he would go down to Tretton. When, therefore, he
was asked the question he could only hold his tongue.

"I suppose you have some scruple in speaking because he's my brother?
You may drop that altogether."

"I think that his career has been what the novel-reader would call
romantic; but what I, who am not one of them, should describe as
unfortunate."

"Well, yes; taking it altogether it has been unfortunate. I am not a
soft-hearted fellow, but I am driven to pity him. The worst of it is
that, had not my father been induced at last to tell the truth, from
most dishonest causes, he would not have been a bit better off than he
is. I doubt whether he could have raised another couple of thousand on
the day when he went. If he had done so then, and again more and more,
to any amount you choose to think of, it would have been the same with
him."

"I suppose so."

"His lust for gambling was a bottomless quicksand, which no possible
amount of winning could ever have satiated. Let him enter his club with
five thousand pounds at his banker's and no misfortune could touch him.
He being such as he is,--or, alas! for aught we know, such as he was,--the
escape which the property has had cannot but be regarded as very
fortunate. I don't care to talk much of myself in particular, though no
wrong can have been done to a man more infinite than that which my
father contrived for me."

"I cannot understand your father," said Harry. In truth, there was
something in Scarborough's manner in speaking of his father which almost
produced belief in Harry's mind. He began to doubt whether Augustus was
in the conspiracy.

"No, I should say not. It is hard to understand that an English
gentleman should have the courage to