“What did Harry want?  Eh?  What?”

“He wanted to go to America, and begin a new life, and found a new house there; and, as he had determined never under any circumstances to visit Sandal-Side again, he asked me to give him the money necessary for emigration.”

“Did you?”

“Yes, I did.”

“For what?  What equivalent could he give you?”

“He had nothing to give me but his right of succession.  I bought it for ten thousand pounds.  A sum of money like that ought to give him a good start in America.  I think, upon the whole, he was very wise.”

“Harry Sandal sold my home and estate over my head, while I was still alive, without a word to me!  God have mercy!”

“Uncle, he never thought of it in that light, I am sure.”

“That is what he did; sold it without a thought as to what his mother’s or sister’s wishes might be.  Sold it away from his own child.  My God!  The man is an immeasurable scoundrel; and, Julius Sandal, you are another.”

“Sir?”

“Leave me.  I am still master of Sandal.  Leave me.  Leave my house.  Do not enter it again until my dead body has passed the gates.”

“It will be right for you first to sign this paper.”

“What paper?  Eh?  What?”

“The deed of Harry’s relinquishment.  He has my money.  I look to your honor to secure me.”

“You look the wrong road.  I will sign no such paper,—­no, not for twenty years of life.”

He spoke sternly, but almost in a whisper.  The strain upon him was terrible; he was using up the last remnants of his life to maintain it.

“That you should sign the deed is only bare honesty.  I gave the money trusting to your honesty.”

“I will not sign it.  It would be a queer thing for me to be a partner in such a dirty job.  The right of succession to Sandal, barring Harry Sandal, is not vested in you.  It is in Harry’s son.  Whoever his mother may be, the little lad is heir of Sandal-Side; and I’ll not be made a thief in my last hours by you.  That’s a trick beyond your power.  Now, then, I’ll waste no more words on you, good, bad, or indifferent.”

He had, in fact, reached the limit of his powers, and Julius saw it; yet he did not hesitate to press his right to Sandal’s signature by every argument he thought likely to avail.  Sandal was as one that heard not, and fortunately Mrs. Sandal’s entrance put an end to the painful interview.

This was a sorrow the squire had never contemplated, and it filled his heart with anxious misery.  He strove to keep calm, to husband his strength, to devise some means of protecting his wife’s rights.  “I must send for Lawyer Moser:  if there is any way out of this wrong, he will know the right way,” he thought.  But he had to rest a little ere he could give the necessary prompt instructions.  Towards noon he revived, and asked eagerly for Stephen Latrigg.  A messenger was at once sent to Up-Hill.  He found Stephen in the barn, where the men were making the flails beat with a rhythm and regularity as exhilarating as music.  Stephen left them at once; but, when he told Ducie what word had been brought him, he was startled at her look and manner.