But if, as the train drew near to Tretton, he was anxious as to his meeting with the squire, he was much more so as to the captain. The reader will remember all the circumstances under which they two had last seen each other Harry had been furiously attacked by Mountjoy, and had then left him sprawling,--dead, as some folks had said on the following day,--under the rail. His only crime had been that he was drunk. If the disinherited one would give him his hand and let by-gones be by-gones, he would do the same. He felt no personal animosity. But there was a difficulty. As he was driven up to the door in a cab belonging to the squire there was Mountjoy, standing before the house. He too had thought of the difficulties, and had made up his mind that it would not do for him to meet his late foe without some few words intended for the making of peace. "I hope you are well, Mr. Annesley," he said, offering his hand as the other got out of the cab. "It may be as well that I should apologize at once for my conduct. I was at that moment considerably distressed, as you may have heard. I had been declared to be penniless, and to be nobody. The news had a little unmanned me, and I was beside myself." "I quite understand it; quite understand it," said Annesley, giving his hand. "I am very glad to see you back again, and in your father's house." Then Mountjoy turned on his heel, and went through the hall, leaving Harry to the care of the butler. The captain thought that he had done enough, and that the affair in the street might now be regarded as a dream. Harry was taken up to shake hands with the old man, and in due time came down to dinner, where he met Mr. Grey and the young doctor. They were all very civil to him, and upon the whole, he spent a pleasant evening. On the next day, about noon, the squire sent for him. He had been told at breakfast that it was the squire's intention to see him in the middle of the day, and he had been unable, therefore, to join Mountjoy's shooting-party. "Sit down, Mr. Annesley," said the old man. "You were surprised, no doubt, when you got my invitation?" "Well, yes; perhaps so; but I thought it very kind." "I meant to be kind; but still, it requires some explanation. You see, I am such an old cripple that I cannot give invitations like anybody else. Now you are here I must not eat and drink with you, and in order to say a few words to you I am obliged to keep you in the house till the doctor tells me I am strong enough to talk." "I am glad to find you so much better than when I was here before."