“Yes, yes, certainly,” said Septimus.  But Septimus did not quite understand why it was that they should have to see what the young man was about.

“Between you and me, I think he means to interfere with me, and I do not mean to stand his interference.”

“I should think not.”

“He must go back to Buston, among the Bustonians, or he and I will have a stand-up fight of it.  I rather like a stand-up fight.”

“Just so.  When a fellow’s so bumptious as that he ought to be licked.”

“He has lied about Mountjoy,” said Augustus.  Then Jones waited to be told how it was that Harry had lied.  He was aware that there was some secret unknown to him, and was anxious to be informed.  Was Harry aware of Mountjoy’s hiding-place, and if so, how had he learned it?  Why was it that Harry should be acquainted with that which was dark to all the world besides?  Jones was of opinion that the squire knew all about it, and thought it not improbable that the squire and Augustus had the secret in their joint keeping.  But if so, how should Harry Annesley know anything about it?  “He has lied like the very devil,” continued Augustus, after a pause.

“Has he, now?”

“And I don’t mean to spare him.”

“I should think not.”  Then there was a pause, at the end of which Jones found himself driven to ask a question:  “How has he lied?” Augustus smiled and shook his head, from which the other man gathered that he was not now to be told the nature of the lie in question.  “A fellow that lies like that,” said Jones, “is not to be endured.”

“I do not mean to endure him.  You have heard of a young lady named Miss Mountjoy, a cousin of ours?”

“Mountjoy’s Miss Mountjoy?” suggested Jones.

“Yes, Mountjoy’s Miss Mountjoy.  That, of course, is over.  Mountjoy has brought himself to such a pass that he is not entitled to have a Miss Mountjoy any longer.  It seems the proper thing that she shall pass, with the rest of the family property, to the true heir.”

“You marry her!”

“We need not talk about that just at present.  I don’t know that I’ve made up my mind.  At any rate, I do not intend that Harry Annesley shall have her.”

“I should think not.”

“He’s a pestilential cur, that has got himself introduced into the family, and the sooner we get quit of him the better.  I should think the young lady would hardly fancy him when she knows that he has lied like the very devil, with the object of getting her former lover out of the way.”

“By Jove, no, I should think not!”

“And when the world comes to understand that Harry Annesley, in the midst of all these inquiries, knows all about poor Mountjoy,—­was the last to see him in London,—­and has never come forward to say a word about him, then I think the world will be a little hard upon the immaculate Harry Annesley.  His own uncle has quarrelled with him already.”