No sharper retort rising to Old Tom’s lips, he permitted his brother’s abuse of him to pass, declaring that bandying words was not his business, he not being a Parliament man. “How about the Major, Nan? He coming down, too?” “Major!” cried Andrew. “Lucky if he keeps his commission. Coming down? No. He’s off to the Continent.” “Find plenty of scamps there to keep him company,” added Tom. “So he’s broke—eh? ha! ha!” “Tom,” said Andrew, seriously, “I’ll tell you all about it, if you’ll swear not to split on me, because it would really upset poor Harry so. She’d think me such a beastly hypocrite, I couldn’t face her afterwards.” “Lose what pluck you have—eh?” Tom jerked out his hand, and bade his brother continue. Compelled to trust in him without a promise, Andrew said: “Well, then, after we’d arranged it, I went back to Harry, and begged her to have poor Van at the house: told her what I hoped you’d do for him about getting him into the Brewery. She’s very kind, Tom, ’pon my honour she is. She was willing, only—” “Only—eh?” “Well, she was so afraid it’d hurt her sisters to see him there.” Old Tom saw he was in for excellent fun, and wouldn’t spoil it for the world. “Yes, Nan?” “So I went to Caroline. She was easy enough; and she went to the Countess.” “Well, and she—?” “She was willing, too, till Lady Jocelyn came and took Miss Bonner home to Beckley, and because Evan had written to my lady to fetch her, the Countess—she was angry. That was all. Because of that, you know. But yet she agreed. But when Miss Bonner had gone, it turned out that the Major was the obstacle. They were all willing enough to have Evan there, but the Major refused. I didn’t hear him. I wasn’t going to ask him. I mayn’t be a match for three women, but man to man, eh, Tom? You’d back me there? So Harry said the Major’d make Caroline miserable, if his wishes were disrespected. By George, I wish I’d known, then. Don’t you think it odd, Tom, now? There’s a Duke of Belfield the fellow had hooked into his Company; and—through Evan I heard—the Duke had his name struck off. After that, the Major swore at the Duke once or twice, and said Caroline wasn’t to go out with him. Suddenly, he insists that she shall go. Days the poor thing kept crying! One day, he makes her go. She hasn’t the spirit of my Harry or the Countess. By good luck, Van, who was hunting ferns for some friends of his, met them on Sunday in Richmond Park, and Van took her away from the Duke. But, Tom, think of Van seeing a fellow watching her wherever she went, and hearing the Duke’s coachman tell that fellow he had orders to drive his master and a lady hard on to the sea that night. I don’t believe it—it wasn’t Caroline! But what do you think of our finding out that beast of a spy to be in the Major’s pay? We did. Van put a constable on his track; we found him out, and he confessed it. A fact, Tom! That decided me. If it was only to get rid of a brute, I determined I’d do it, and I did.