his object.  Had ever any one been so swindled, so cruelly treated!  This might probably be explained, and the five thousand pounds might be added to the twenty-five thousand pounds.  But the explanation would be necessary, and all his pride would rebel against it.  On that night when by chance he had come across his brother, bleeding and still half drunk, as he was about to enter his lodging, how completely under his thumb he had been!  And now he was offering him of his bounty this wretched pittance!  Then with half-muttered curses he execrated the names of his father, his brother, of Grey, and of Barry, and of his own lawyer.

At that moment the door was opened and his bosom friend, Septimus Jones, entered the room.  At any rate this friend was the nearest he had to his bosom.  He was a man without friends in the true sense.  There was no one who knew the innermost wishes of his heart, the secret desires of his soul.  There are thus so many who can divulge to none those secret wishes!  And how can such a one have a friend who can advise him as to what he shall do?  Scarcely can the honest man have such a friend, because it is so difficult for him to find a man who will believe in him.  Augustus had no desire for such a friend, but he did desire some one who would do his bidding as though he were such a friend.  He wanted a friend who would listen to his words, and act as though they were the truth.  Mr. Septimus Jones was the man he had chosen, but he did not in the least believe in Mr. Septimus Jones himself.  “What does that man say?” asked Septimus Jones.  The man was the lawyer of whom Augustus was now thinking, at this very moment, all manner of evil.

“D——­n him!” said Augustus.

“With all my heart.  But what does he say?  As you are to pay him for what he says, it is worth while listening to it.”

There was a tone in the voice of Septimus Jones which declared at once some diminution of his usual respect.  So it sounded, at least, to Augustus.  He was no longer the assured heir of Tretton, and in this way he was to be told of the failure of his golden hopes.  It would be odd, he thought, if he could not still hold his dominion over Septimus Jones.  “I am not at all sure that I shall listen to him or to you either.”

“As for that, you can do as you like.”

“Of course I can do as I like.”  Then he remembered that he must still use the man as a messenger, if in no other capacity.  “Of course he wants to compromise it.  A lawyer always proposes a compromise.  He cannot be beat that way, and it is safe for him.”

“You had agreed to that.”

“But what are the terms to be?—­that is the question.  I made my offer:—­half and half.  Nothing fairer can be imagined,—­unless, indeed, I choose to stand out for the whole property.”

“But what does your brother say?”

He could not use his friend even as a messenger without telling him something of the truth.  “When I think of it, of this injustice, I can hardly hold myself.  He proposes to give me twenty-five thousand pounds.”