Another contemptuous inclination, and “you have my reply, sir,” was all the baronet could trust himself to say.

“I now come to a transaction of a more recent date, Sir Thomas.”

“Ah!” said the baronet, “I thought I should have had the pleasure of introducing the discussion of that transaction.  You really are, however, quite a universal genius—­so clear and eloquent upon all topics, that I suppose I may leave it in your hands.”

“A young man, named Fenton, has suddenly disappeared from this neighborhood.”

“Indeed!  Why, I must surely live at the antipodes, or in the moon, or I could not plead such ignorance of those great events.”

“You are aware, Sir Thomas, that the person passing under that name is your brother’s son—­the legitimate heir to the title and property of which you are in the unjust possession.”

Another bow.  “I thank you, sir.  I really am deriving much information at your hands.”

“Now I demand, Sir Thomas Gourlay, in the name of his injured mother, what you have done with that young man?”

“It would be useless to conceal it,” replied the other.  “As you seem to know everything, of course you know that.  To your own knowledge, therefore, I beg most respectfully to refer you.”

“I have only another observation to make, Sir Thomas Gourlay.  You remember last Tuesday night, when you drove at an unseasonable hour to the town of------?  Now, sir, I use your words, on that subject, to your own knowledge I beg most respectfully to refer you.  I have done.”

Sir Thomas Gourlay, when effort was necessary, could certainly play an able and adroit part.  There was not a charge brought against him in the preceding conference that did not sink his heart into the deepest dismay; yet did he contrive to throw over his whole manner and bearing such a veil of cold, hard dissimulation as it was nearly impossible to penetrate.  It is true, he saw that he had an acute, sensible, independent man to deal with, whose keen eye he felt was reading every feature of his face, and every motion of his body, and weighing, as it were, with a practised hand, the force and import of every word he uttered.  He knew that merely to entertain the subject, or to discuss it at all with anything like seriousness, would probably have exposed him to the risk of losing his temper, and thus placed himself in the power of so sharp and impurturbable an antagonist.  As the dialogue proceeded, too, a portion of his attention was transferred from the topic in question to the individual who introduced it.  His language, his manner, his dress, his tout ensemble were unquestionably not only those of an educated gentleman, but of a man who was well acquainted with life and society, and who appeared to speak as if he possessed no unequivocal position in both.

“Who the devil,” thought he to himself several times, “can this person be?  How does he come to speak on behalf of Lady Gourlay?  Surely such a man cannot be a brush manufacturer’s clerk—­and he has very little the look of an impostor, too.”