“I heard that he did disappear.”

“After a quarrel with that Annesley?”

“After some quarrel.  I did not notice the name at the time.”

“Harry Annesley was the name.  Now, Augustus says that Harry Annesley was the last person who saw Mountjoy before his disappearance,—­he last who knew him.  He implies thereby that Annesley was the conscious or unconscious cause of his disappearance.”

“Well, yes.”

“Certainly it is so.  And as it has been thought by the police, and by other fools, that Mountjoy was murdered,—­that his disappearance was occasioned by his death, either by murder or suicide, it follows that Annesley must have had something to do with it.  That is the inference, is it not?”

“I should suppose so,” said Merton.

“That is manifestly the inference which Augustus draws.  To hear him speak to me about it you would suppose that he suspected Annesley of having killed Mountjoy.”

“Not that, I hope.”

“Something of the sort.  He has intended it to be believed that Annesley, for his own purposes, has caused Mountjoy to be made away with.  He has endeavored to fill the police with that idea.  A policeman, generally, is the biggest fool that London, or England, or the world produces, and has been selected on that account.  Therefore the police have a beautifully mysterious but altogether ignorant suspicion as to Annesley.  That is the doing of Augustus, for some purpose of his own.  Now, let me tell you that Augustus saw Mountjoy after Annesley had seen him, that he knows this to be the case, and that it was Augustus, who contrived Mountjoy’s disappearance.  Now what do you think of Augustus?” This was a question which Merton did not find it very easy to answer.  But Mr. Scarborough waited for a reply.  “Eh?” he exclaimed.

“I had rather not give an opinion on a point so raised.”

“You may.  Of course you understand that I intend to assert that Augustus is the greatest blackguard you ever knew.  If you have anything to say in his favor you can say it.”

“Only that you may be mistaken.  Living down here, you may not know the truth.”

“Just that.  But I do know the truth.  Augustus is very clever; but there are others as clever as he is.  He can pay, but then so can I. That he should want to get Mountjoy out of the way is intelligible.  Mountjoy has become disreputable, and had better be out of the way.  But why persistently endeavor to throw the blame upon young Annesley?  That surprises me;—­only I do not care much about it.  I hear now for the first time that he has ruined young Annesley, and that does appear to be very horrible.  But why does he want to pay eighty thousand pounds to these creditors?  That I should wish to do so,—­out of a property which must in a very short time become his,—­would be intelligible.  I may be supposed to have some affection for Mountjoy, and, after all, am not called upon to pay the money out of my own pocket.  Do you understand it?”