“What are they talking about?”

“De inheritance!” said the man, who was a veritable Jew, looking up anxiously in his face.

The man had his acceptance for a very large sum of money, with an assurance that it should be paid on his father’s death, for which he had given him about two thousand pounds in cash.

“You must ask my father.”

“But is it true?”

“You must ask my father.  Upon my word, I can tell you nothing else.  He has concocted a tale of which I for one do not believe a word.  I never heard of the story till he condescended to tell it me the other day.  Whether it be true or whether it be false, you and I, Mr. Hart, are in the same boat.”

“But you have had de money.”

“And you have got the bill.  You can’t do anything by coming after me.  My father seems to have contrived a very clever plan by which he can rob you; but he will rob me at the same time.  You may believe me or not as you please; but that you will find to be the truth.”

Then Mr. Hart left him, but certainly did not believe a word the captain had said to him.

To her mother Florence would only disclose her persistent intention of not marrying her cousin.  Mrs. Mountjoy, over whose spirit the glamour of the captain’s prestige was still potent, said much in his favor.  Everybody had always intended the marriage, and it would be the setting right of everything.  The captain, no doubt, owed a large sum of money, but that would be paid by Florence’s fortune.  So little did the poor lady know of the captain’s condition.  When she had been told that there had been a great quarrel between the captain and his father, she declared that the marriage would set that all right.

“But, mamma, Captain Scarborough is not to have the property at all.”

Then Mrs. Mountjoy, believing thoroughly in entails, had declared that all Heaven could not prevent it.

“But that makes no difference,” said the daughter; “if I—­I—­I loved him I would marry him so much the more, if he had nothing.”

Then Mrs. Mountjoy declared that she could not understand it at all.

On the next day Captain Scarborough came, according to his promise, but nothing that he could say would induce Florence to come into his presence.  Her mother declared that she was so ill that it would be wicked to disturb her.

CHAPTER III.

Harry Annesley.

Together with Augustus Scarborough at Cambridge had been one Harry Annesley, and he it was to whom the captain in his wrath had sworn to put an end if he should come between him and his love.  Harry Annesley had been introduced to the captain by his brother, and an intimacy had grown up between them.  He had brought him to Tretton Park when Florence was there, and Harry had since made his own way to Cheltenham, and had endeavored to plead his own cause after his