'need i remind you,' began eustace, 'of my father's high, indomitable spirit?

'no, no,' said the squire hastily; 'he was the finest'—

'now, squire,' said dr. cruden, laying his hand gently on his knee, 'let us agree, before mr. de la mark begins, that there shall be no interruptions, or we shall not finish to-night.'

'go on,' said the squire.

'he could never brook the stern temper of my grandfather, and constant contention created serious disaffection between them.'

'that was all through bloodworth,' said the squire; 'he was at the bottom of it all; he is a very'—

'now, do hush,' said the doctor in a deprecating tone.

'go on, eu,' said the squire impatiently.

'he married—that you know—and i was born before he was twenty-one.'

'yep, you must be pretty near thirty by this time.'

'i am thirty-five.'

'why, that makes me fifty-three. how time flies! well, lad!'

'you are aware that the discovery of his marriage was the cause of the final rupture.'

'ah! eu was wrong there; i was but a boy then, and did not understand things, and took his part through thick and thin; but it was a very foolish thing to fly in the old man's face that way.'

'squire, squire,' said the doctor, 'what right have you to talk?'

'well, that's true; but i thought he would get over mine, and mary's property made it of little consequence, as far as money went.'

eustace took the miniature from his uncle, and, opening the case on the other side, showed the portrait of a lady. 'that was my mother,' he said quietly.

'ay, to the life; yes, she was a lovely creature, and as good as she was beautiful. eu was perfectly right to marry her; but then he should have waited a little.'

'bloodworth hurried him into it,' said eustace, 'by telling him, in confidence, of another match which sir eustace had determined to effect between him and some lady distantly connected with his family.'

'now, eu,' said the squire, rising in his chair, 'if you expect me to keep my temper, don't mention that—pshaw! nonsense!' pushing away the doctor's hand—'that fellow's name more than you can help.'

'no. my father left his birthplace with a parent's curse ringing in his ears.'

'shocking, shocking!' said the squire.

'you know nay mother,' continued eustace, 'scarcely outlived my birth.'

'poor eu! poor girl!' sighed the squire.

'at that time my father, as he afterwards told me, broken down with grief, wrote to sir eustace, entreating a reconciliation and a revocation of his curse.'

'i'll answer for it, my father never had that letter. i know he was hard, but he could not have stood that.'

'an answer came to it, written by bloodworth, who complained bitterly of being made the medium of so painful a message. it was to the effect that sir eustace would pardon and receive him upon condition of his marrying again immediately, according to his choice; and it was couched in such arbitrary terms, so devoid of all natural feeling, so insulting to my mother's memory, and casting such unworthy reflections on my father's motive for making the advance, that he spurned the thought of replying to it. in that letter, too, bloodworth confirmed what he had often insinuated in his former letters—that his brothers had helped to embitter the mind of sir eustace against him.'

'oh, my dear sir,' said the doctor, laying his hand on mr. brimble, 'what is the use of chafing so? pray, pray be pacified!'

the squire leant back in his chair in silence.

'i must tell you, my dear uncle, that my father did not believe it of you,—you were then about seventeen or eighteen,—and he could not credit that selfish interest could so have altered your heart, full of affection as he had left it, in the very bloom of youth. but, you excepted, he determined to forget all england and devote himself to me. my mother's slender fortune, and an estate to which he became entitled when of age'—

'yes, itterdale,' interrupted the squire.

'left him by old jasper honeyman, some fiftieth cousin of my mother's—this enabled him to live at ease, though not in affluence. he converted the estate into money, and, without any settled home, wandered from country to country as inclination led him.'

'eu, i could never understand why he did not write to me,' cried the squire, 'especially as we were in the same box; he married for love a woman of high family; i, for something of the sort, a woman of no particular "family,"'—involuntarily glancing round at the door,—'and glorious fortune, so we both came under the ban; he knew it, and i am puzzled to this day to know why he remained silent.'

'i am afraid of telling you the cause,' said eustace.

'go on,' said the squire, clenching his fist, and flushing with indignation.

'yes; he was wholly deceived by that man, who wrote, adjuring him to be patient, entreating him to communicate all his proceedings to him, mourning over the conduct of his unnatural relatives, and promising'—

'now don't, pray don't!' said the squire; 'if you love me, don't!'

'at last came the announcement of the death of sir eustace, and of his will, by which you and my father were disinherited, and parker's dew, with all other property, was left to sir valary.'

'eu,' said the squire, starting up, 'i never believed in that will. i saw my father not long before his death; he entirely forgave me, and told me it lay sore on his heart that he could not see eu before he closed his eyes. i gathered from what he said—but he was too ill to talk much—that he had tried to get at him for years, but without success. that will was a forgery!' continued the squire, striking the table with a vehemence that made the glasses dance.

'my father did not think so. we were in rome when we received the news, and he determined on returning to england, that he might see you and find the truth of what he had heard. i was then eighteen, and rejoiced in the prospect of seeing my own country—the only one in europe that i had not visited; but after a three days' illness my father fell a victim to malaria, and i was so ill as to be reported dead.'

'of course,' said the squire; 'everybody said you were.'

'i think i should have justified the report, if it had not been for an excellent protestant clergyman, who felt deeply for me, having just buried his wife in the same disease; he became a father to me, though i had no other claim upon his sympathy than needing it.'

'where is he now?' asked the squire eagerly.

eustace was silent.

'ha!' said the squire; 'go on.'

'like me, he was, as far as human ties go, alone in the world, and determined to spend the remainder of his life as a missionary in the east. i resolved to accompany him; for when we paid our last visit to the little protestant burial-place, which contained the two who had been all to us on earth, it seemed as if nature and heaven had marked us out for companions. eight years we wandered together through the east, he by his life and preaching teaching christianity, i learning it. i cannot pretend to enter now into the labours and pleasures of those eight years. his health broke down. he died at beirut, on our return westward, and again i was alone. now my heart yearned for england. was i to wander a stranger through life with mere chance companions? i embarked on board a vessel bound for alexandria, intending to shape my course finally to my own country; but a doctor from frankfort, our fellow-traveller through part of syria, who had shown great kindness to my friend in his illness, and had skilfully soothed his sufferings, being my fellow-passenger now, won so upon my regard, which was before his, from gratitude, that i was induced to change my purpose, and try the western world, where he designed to settle. seven long years i spent in the two americas, till, weary of the wide, wide world, i once more determined on seeking a home in the hearts of some who, strange to me, yet seemed to beckon me from the distance. it was you, uncle.'

'ay, my lad; if i had known your whereabouts, i should have done more than beckon, i can tell you.'

'it happened, singularly enough, that the frankfort doctor and i became again passengers in the same vessel. he had married an american lady, and was taking her home to fatherland, preferring the small gains he expected to get in dusseldorf, where he had a connection, to any amount of money away from it.'

'in the right of it!' said the squire. 'i would rather live on bread and cheese in england than have all the treasures of the great mogul in any other country.'

'you never did live on bread and cheese, squire,' said the doctor, with a smirk.

'again his importunity overcame me,' continued eustace, 'and for a time i deferred coming to england, and went instead with him to a country, many scenes in which were familiar to me, all my early education having been in germany. fascinated with old associations, i wandered about from place to place, as memory led me, feeling a happier nearness to my father there than i did when standing beside his grave. one day the fall of an old house in dusseldorf, to which i had for a short time returned, induced me, with many passers-by, to assist in examining the ruins, lest any unfortunates should have been buried under them. here i met with an accident, and was too much injured to speak. as a stranger, i was carried to the nearest hotel, i may call it. as soon as i could give an account of myself, my friend the doctor was sent for, and by his advice i was not moved to his house, but remained there under his care. hearing that a pious lutheran minister was visiting a sick woman in the same house, i requested to see him. in the course of conversation he told me he wished he could understand and speak english well, for the poor woman he was visiting, he said, was much restrained by feeling him to be foreign, and his words had less weight with her than they thought they otherwise would. "she is much troubled in mind," he said, "and i would thankfully give her relief."

'i immediately offered, as soon as i should be sufficiently recovered, to visit her for him; and i did so. i saw she had not very long to live, and had a burdened conscience; but i little suspected what she was about to confide to me. she had been nurse in the family of sir valary, having previously lived for many years with sir eustace. she revealed to me the whole of bloodworth's villainy, in which she was deeply implicated, and gave me all the history of his contrivance to keep her away—of what she had suffered in banishment and in leaving lady de la mark and her infant—in fact, she left nothing untold, her great anxiety being to know if there were any pardon for sin like hers. she seemed reckless of exposure, and declared that if she lived she would willingly receive any punishment, provided she might have a hope of mercy hereafter. her gratitude, when i disclosed to her who i was, was beyond bounds. she said she thought that having been permitted to restore me to my rights in so strange a manner was almost like a merciful assurance that there was pardon for her.'

old bet reveals the whole of bloodworth's villainy.

'poor old bet!' said the squire; 'i don't know what she did, but i'll answer for it, bloodworth put her up to it.'

'and what was it?' said the doctor, breathless with interest.

'that i cannot divulge just now, and it is equally necessary that bloodworth knows nothing of me until i convict him.'

'let us go to-night,' said the squire.

'too late, too late now!' said the doctor, shaking his head. 'will you let me ask mr. de la mark'—

'he is sir eustace,' exclaimed the squire, 'and valary has no right at parker's dew, and i always said so!'

'it is quite true, uncle; but at present i prefer to waive the honour; his infirmity, perhaps nearness to death, and poor marjory's forlorn condition, have kept me back from taking any steps for the recovery of my rights. of course i have taken legal means; but they are yet in abeyance. my intention in coming to england was to see those who would now be forced to acknowledge me as kin, without apprising them of the obligation.'

'then the will is an absolute forgery?' said the doctor.

'an absolute forgery,' was the reply.

'and sir valary knows it?'

'he has known it for many years; but he did not at the time of taking possession.'

'well, i'm glad of that, for the honour of the family,' said the squire huskily.

'and for his conscience' sake,' said the doctor.

'well, it makes it a shade lighter. pray, does bloodworth know you are living?'

'he is uncertain about it; he has had glimpses of me now and then, but has not been able to follow me up.'

'and valary—does he know it?'

'he also is uncertain. bloodworth holds me over him, as nurses frighten children with spectres; and no doubt the attacks from which he has lately suffered have been in some way connected with the failure of their plans to ascertain the fact.'

'how came bloodworth to call you mr.—what was it?' asked the doctor.

'i purposely obtained a draft for him from a person in dusseldorf with whom he has invested some of his ill-gotten gains. i was able to do this through the information given me by the woman higgs. vandercroft was the name of the person to whom the draft had been committed, and, not knowing that i was his substitute, he naturally gave the name to me. he had never received communications of the kind in so careless and open a manner, and became alarmed, i saw at once.'