He had been grossly misused on the occasion, and had escaped from such misusage by the only means in his power.  But still he felt that, had he told the story, people far and wide would have connected his name with the man’s absence, and, worse again, that Florence’s name would have become entangled with it also.  For the first day or two he had from hour to hour abstained from telling all that he knew, and then when the day or two were passed, and when a week had run by,—­when a fortnight had been allowed to go,—­it was impossible for him not to hold his tongue.

He became nervous, unhappy, and irritated down at Buston, with his father and mother and sister’s, but more especially with his uncle.  Previous to this his uncle for a couple of months had declined to see him; now he was sent for to the Hall and interrogated daily on this special subject.  Mr. Prosper was aware that his nephew had been intimate with Augustus Scarborough, and that he might, therefore, be presumed to know much about the family.  Mr. Prosper took the keenest interest in the illegitimacy and the impecuniosity and final disappearance of the captain, and no doubt did, in his cross-examinations, discover the fact that Harry was unwilling to answer his questions.  He found out for the first time that Harry was acquainted with the captain, and also contrived to extract from him the name of Miss Mountjoy.  But he could learn nothing else, beyond Harry’s absolute unwillingness to talk upon the subject, which was in itself much.  It must be understood that Harry was not specially reverential in these communications.  Indeed, he gave his uncle to understand that he regarded his questions as impertinent, and at last declared his intention of not coming to the Hall any more for the present.  Then Mr. Prosper whispered to his sister that he was quite sure that Harry Annesley knew more than he choose to say as to Captain Scarborough’s whereabouts.

“My dear Peter,” said Mrs. Annesley, “I really think that you are doing poor Harry an injustice.”

Mrs. Annesley was always on her guard to maintain something like an affectionate intercourse between her own family and the squire.

“My dear Anne, you do not see into a millstone as far as I do.  You never did.”

“But, Peter, you really shouldn’t say such things of Harry.  When all the police-officers themselves are looking about to catch up anything in their way, they would catch him up at a moment’s notice if they heard that a magistrate of the county had expressed such an opinion.”

“Why don’t he tell me?” said Mr. Prosper.

“There’s nothing to tell.”

“Ah, that’s your opinion—­because you can’t see into a millstone.  I tell you that Harry knows more about this Captain Scarborough than any one else.  They were very intimate together.”

“Harry only just knew him.”

“Well, you’ll see.  I tell you that Harry’s name will become mixed up with Captain Scarborough’s, and I hope that it will be in no discreditable manner.  I hope so, that’s all.”  Harry in the mean time had returned to London, in order to escape his uncle, and to be on the spot to learn anything that might come in his way as to the now acknowledged mystery respecting the captain.