ld
Squire's time for any purpose of use. He did not wish to stand and
inspect them,--not as yet. He walked on as though collecting his
thoughts, and as he walked he endeavoured to fix on some long set of
sermons. He had in his mind some glimmering of remembrance that there
was such a set of books in the room. "You might as well let us do as
we propose," he said.

"Certainly not. To tell you the truth, I wish you would go away, and
leave me."

"Mr Cheekey will hear all about it, and how will you be able to
answer Mr Cheekey?"

"I don't care about Mr Cheekey. Who is to tell Mr Cheekey? Will you
tell him?"

"I cannot take your part, you know, if you behave like this."

As he spoke, Mr Apjohn had stopped his walk, and was standing with
his back close to the book-shelves, with the back of his head almost
touching the set of Jeremy Taylor's works. There were ten volumes
of them, and he was standing exactly in front of them. Cousin Henry
was just in front of him, doubting whether his enemy's position had
not been chosen altogether by accident, but still trembling at the
near approach. He was prepared for a spring if it was necessary.
Anything should be hazarded now, so that discovery might be avoided.
Mr Brodrick was still seated in the chair which he had at first
occupied, waiting till that order should be given to him to go for
the magistrate's warrant.

Mr Apjohn's eye had caught the author's name on the back of the book,
and he remembered at once that he had seen the volume,--a volume
with Jeremy Taylor's name on the back of it,--lying on the old man's
table. "Jeremey Taylor's Works. Sermons." He remembered the volume.
That had been a long time ago,--six months ago; but the old man might
probably take a long time over so heavy a book. "You will let me look
at some of these," he said, pointing with his thumb over his back.

"You shall not touch a book without a regular order," said Cousin
Henry.

Mr Apjohn fixed the man's eye for a moment. He was the smaller man of
the two, and much the elder; but he was wiry, well set, and strong.
The other was soft, and unused to much bodily exercise. There could
be no doubt as to which would have the best of it in a personal
struggle. Very quickly he turned round and got his hand on one of
the set, but not on the right one. Cousin Henry dashed at him, and in
the struggle the book fell to the ground. Then the attorney seized
him by the throat, and dragged him forcibly back to