e expected
that a man in such a condition should have lived so long, and have been
capable of a will so powerful? He had not dreamed of a hatred so
inveterate as his father's for him.

He received news also from Tretton that his father was not now expected
by any one to live long.

"It may be a week, the doctors say, and it is hardly possible that he
should remain alive for another month." Such was the news which reached
him from his own emissary at Tretton. What had he better do in the
emergency of the moment?

There was only one possibly effective step that he could take. He might,
of course, remain tranquil, and accept what chance might give him, when
his father should have died. But he might at once go down to Tretton and
demand an interview with the dying man. He did not think that his
father, even on his death-bed, would refuse to see him. His father's
pluck was indomitable, and he thought that he could depend on his own
pluck. At any rate he resolved that he would immediately go to Tretton
and take his chance. He reached the house about the middle of the day,
and at once sent his name up to his father. Miss Scarborough was sitting
by her brother's bedside, and from time to time was reading to him a few
words. "Augustus!" he said, as soon as the servant had left the room.
"What does Augustus want with me? The last time he saw me he bade me die
out of hand if I wished to retrieve the injury I had done him."

"Do not think of that now, John," his sister said.

"As God is my judge, I will think of it to the last moment. Words such
as those spoken, by a son to his father, demand a little thought. Were I
to tell you that I did not think of them, would you not know that I was
a hypocrite?"

"You need not speak of them, John."

"Not unless he came here to harass my last moments. I strove to do very
much for him;--you know with what return. Mountjoy has been, at any rate,
honest and straightforward; and, considering all things, not lacking in
respect. I shall, at any rate, have some pleasure in letting Augustus
know the state of my mind."

"What shall I say to him?" his sister asked.

"Tell him that he had better go back to London. I have tried them both,
as few sons can be tried by their father, and I know them now. Tell him,
with my compliments, that it will be better for him not to see me. There
can be nothing pleasant said between us. I have no communication to make
to him which could in the least interest