From that story, told in the words of a drunken man,--a man drunk, and bruised, and bloody, who clearly did not understand in one minute the words spoken in the last,--Augustus did learn that there had been some great row between his brother and Harry Annesley.

Then Mountjoy had disappeared,--had disappeared, as the reader will have understood, with his brother's co-operation,--and Harry had not come forward, when inquiries were made, to declare what he knew of the occurrences of that night.

Augustus had narrowly watched his conduct, in order at first that he might learn in what condition his brother had been left in the street, but afterward with the purpose of ascertaining why it was that Harry had been so reticent.

Then he had allured Harry on to a direct lie, and soon perceived that he could afterward use the secret for his own purpose.
"I think we shall have to see what that young man's about, you know," he said afterward to Septimus Jones.
"Yes, yes, certainly," said Septimus.

But Septimus did not quite understand why it was that they should have to see what the young man was about.
"Between you and me, I think he means to interfere with me, and I do not mean to stand his interference." "I should think not." "He must go back to Buston, among the Bustonians, or he and I will have a stand-up fight of it.