The squire seized one of the boy’s hands to present him and retain him at the same time:  but the stranger plucked him from his grandfather’s hold, and swinging him high, exclaimed, ’Here he is!  This is Harry Richmond.  He has grown a grenadier.’

‘Kiss the little chap and back to bed with him,’ growled the squire.

The boy was heartily kissed and asked if he had forgotten his papa.  He replied that he had no papa:  he had a mama and a grandpapa.  The stranger gave a deep groan.

‘You see what you have done; you have cut me off from my own,’ he said terribly to the squire; but tried immediately to soothe the urchin with nursery talk and the pats on the shoulder which encourage a little boy to grow fast and tall.  ‘Four years of separation,’ he resumed, ’and my son taught to think that he has no father.  By heavens! it is infamous, it is a curst piece of inhumanity.  Mr. Beltham, if I do not see my wife, I carry off my son.’

’You may ask till you’re hoarse, you shall never see her in this house while I am here to command,’ said the squire.

’Very well; then Harry Richmond changes homes.  I take him.  The affair is concluded.’

‘You take him from his mother?’ the squire sang out.

’You swear to me she has lost her wits; she cannot suffer.  I can.  I shall not expect from you, Mr. Beltham, the minutest particle of comprehension of a father’s feelings.  You are earthy; you are an animal.’

The squire saw that he was about to lift the boy, and said, ’Stop, never mind that.  Stop, look at the case.  You can call again to-morrow, and you can see me and talk it over.’

‘Shall I see my wife?’

‘No, you shan’t.’

‘You remain faithful to your word, sir, do you?’

‘I do.’

‘Then I do similarly.’

’What!  Stop!  Not to take a child like that out of a comfortable house at night in Winter, man?’

’Oh, the night is temperate and warm; he shall not remain in a house where his father is dishonoured.’

‘Stop! not a bit of it,’ cried the squire.  ’No one speaks of you.  I give you my word, you ’re never mentioned by man, woman or child in the house.’

‘Silence concerning a father insinuates dishonour, Mr. Beltham.’

‘Damn your fine speeches, and keep your blackguardly hands off that boy,’ the squire thundered.  ’Mind, if you take him, he goes for good.  He doesn’t get a penny from me if you have the bringing of him up.  You’ve done for him, if you decide that way.  He may stand here a beggar in a stolen coat like you, and I won’t own him.  Here, Harry, come to me; come to your grandad.’

Mr. Richmond caught the boy just when he was turning to run.

‘That gentleman,’ he said, pointing to the squire, ’is your grandpapa.  I am your papa.  You must learn at any cost to know and love your papa.  If I call for you to-morrow or next day they will have played tricks with Harry Richmond, and hid him.  Mr. Beltham, I request you, for the final time, to accord me your promise observe, I accept your promise—­that I shall, at my demand, to-morrow or the next day, obtain an interview with my wife.’