Richard, harshly. "I will have
no communication between him and you." Then, folding his arms, he looked
grimly and sardonically into Brian's face. "I trust neither of you," he
said. "We all know that you are only too easily led by those whom you
like to be led by, and he is a young reprobate. Choose for yourself, of
course; I have no claim to control you, only, if you choose to be
friendly with him, I shall cut off the supplies to you as well as to
him, and I shall expose him publicly."

Brian took away the hand which, in the ardour of his pleading, he had
laid upon Richard's arm. Had it not been for Hugo's sake, he would have
quitted the spot in dudgeon. He knew in his heart that it was useless to
argue with Richard in his present state of passion. But for Hugo's sake
he swallowed his resentment, and made one more trial.

"If he repents----" he began doubtfully, and never finished the
sentence.

"I don't repent," said Hugo.

His voice was hoarse and broken, but insolently defiant. By a great
effort of will he fixed his haggard eyes full on Richard Luttrell's face
as he spoke. Richard shrugged his shoulders.

"You hear?" he said, briefly to his brother.

"I hear," Brian answered, in a low, pained tone.

With an air of bravado Hugo stooped and picked up the pocket-book which
still lay at his feet. He weighed it in his hand, and then laughed
aloud, though not very steadily.

"It is full still," he said. "It will be useful, no doubt. I am much
obliged to you, Cousin Richard."

The action, and the words accompanying it, shocked even Richard, who
professed to think nothing too bad for Hugo's powers. He tossed his head
back and turned away with a contemptuous "Good Heavens!" Brian walked
for a few paces distance, and then stood still, with his back to his
cousin. Hugo glanced from one to the other with uneasiness, which he
tried to veil by an assumption of disdain, and dropped the purse
furtively into his pocket. He was ill-pleased to see Richard turn back
with lowered eyebrows, and a look of stern determination upon his
bearded face.

"Brian," said Luttrell, more quietly than he had yet spoken, "I think I
see mother coming down the road. Will you meet her and lead her away
from the loch, without telling her the reason? I don't wish her to meet
this--this gentleman--again."

The intonation of his voice, the look that he bestowed upon Hugo at the
words that he emphasised, made the lad quiver from head to foot wit