"The opinions, entertained by the old knight, naturally induced him to view with displeasure the conduct of his son, who warmly espoused the cause he had deserted.

Finding remonstrances of no avail, he had recourse to threats; and when threats failed, he adopted more decided measures." "Ha!" ejaculated Trenchard.
"As yet," pursued the stranger, "Sir Montacute had placed no limit to his son's expenditure.

He did not quarrel with Rowland's profusion, for his own revenues were ample; but he _did_ object to the large sums lavished by him in the service of a faction he was resolved not to support.

Accordingly, the old knight reduced his son's allowance to a third of its previous amount; and, upon further provocation, he even went so far as to alter his will in favour of his daughter, Aliva, who was then betrothed to her cousin, Sir Cecil Trafford." "Proceed, Sir," said Trenchard, breathing hard.
"Under these circumstances, Rowland did what any other sensible person would do.

Aware of his father's inflexibility of purpose, he set his wits to work to defeat the design.