mstances 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