Richard was twenty-nine, but already he looked twice his age. He was very thin, and there were deep lines on his good-looking countenance. His grey eyes bore a haunted, care-worn look, and his mouth, though well-shaped, was curiously lacking in determination. He was dressed soberly, and without that touch of smartness that had characterised him six years ago. He wore black in memory of his father, and it may have been that severity, only relieved by the lace at his throat, that made his face appear so prematurely aged. There was none of his brother's boyishness about him; even his smile seemed forced and tired, and his laughter rarely held merriment. He pulled out his chronometer, comparing it with the clock on the mantelpiece. His pacing took him to the door, and almost nervously he pulled it open, listening. No sound came to his ears. Back again, to and fro across the room, eagerly awaiting the clanging of a bell. It did not come, but presently a footfall sounded on the passage without, and someone knocked at the door. In two strides Richard was by it, and had flung it wide. Warburton stood there. Richard caught his hand. "Warburton! At last! I have been waiting this hour and more!" Mr. Warburton disengaged himself, bowing. "I regret I was not able to come before, sir," he said primly. "I make no doubt you travelled back as quickly as possible--come in, sir." He led the lawyer into the room and shut the door. "Sit down, Warburton--sit down. You--you found my brother?" Again Warburton bowed. "I had the felicity of seeing his lordship, sir." "He was well? In good spirits? You thought him changed--yes? Aged perhaps, or--" "His lordship was not greatly changed, sir." Richard almost stamped in his impatience. "Come, Warburton, come! Tell me everything. What did he say? Will he take the revenues? Will he--" "His lordship, sir, was reluctant to take anything, but upon maturer consideration, he--ah--consented to accept his elder son's portion. The revenues of the estate he begs you will make use of." "Ah! But you told him that I would touch nought belonging to him?" "I tried to persuade his lordship, sir. To no avail. He desires you to use Wyncham as you will." "I'll not touch his money!" Warburton gave the faintest of shrugs. "That is as you please, sir." Something in the suave voice made Richard, from his stand by the desk, glance sharply down at the lawyer. Suspicion flashed into his eyes. He seemed about to speak, when Warburton continued: "I believe I may set your mind at rest on one score, Mr. Carstares: his lordship's situation is tolerably comfortable. He has ample means." "But--but he lives by--robbery!" Warburton's thin lips curled a little. "Does he not?" persisted Carstares. "So he would have us believe, sir." "'Tis true! He--waylaid me!" "And robbed you, sir?" "Rob me? He could not rob his own brother, Warburton!"