“Stop, my lord, you must listen to me,” said Kilcullen. “Not a word further. I have heard enough;” and he put out the candles on the book-room table, having lighted a bed candle which he held in his hand. “Pardon me, my lord,” continued the son, standing just before his father, so as to prevent his leaving the room; “pardon me, but you must listen to what I have to say.” “Not another word—not another word. Leave the door, sir, or I will ring for the servants to open it.” “Do so,” said Kilcullen, “and they also shall hear what I have to say. I am going to leave you to-morrow, perhaps for ever; and you will not listen to the last word I wish to speak to you?” “I’ll stay five minutes,” said the earl, taking out his watch, “and then I’ll go; and if you attempt again to stop me, I’ll ring the bell for the servants.” “Thank you, my lord, for the five minutes; it will be time enough. I purpose leaving Grey Abbey to-morrow, and I shall probably be in France in three days’ time. When there, I trust I shall cease to trouble you; but I cannot, indeed I will not go, without funds to last me till I can make some arrangement. Your lordship must give me five hundred pounds. I have not the means even of carrying myself from hence to Calais.” “Not one penny. Not one penny—if it were to save you from the gaol to-morrow! This is too bad!” and the earl again walked to the door, against which Lord Kilcullen leaned his back. “By Heaven, sir, I’ll raise the house if you think to frighten me by violence!” “I’ll use no violence, but you must hear the alternative: if you please it, the whole house shall hear it too. If you persist in refusing the small sum I now ask—” “I will not give you one penny to save you from gaol. Is that plain?” “Perfectly plain, and very easy to believe. But you will give more than a penny; you would even give more than I ask, to save yourself from the annoyance you will have to undergo.” “Not on any account will I give you one single farthing.” “Very well. Then I have only to tell you what I must do. Of course, I shall remain here. You cannot turn me out of your house, or refuse me a seat at your table.” “By Heavens, though, I both can and will!” “You cannot, my lord. If you think of it, you’ll find you cannot, without much disagreeable trouble. An eldest son would be a very difficult tenant to eject summarily: and of my own accord I will not go without the money I ask.” “By heavens, this exceeds all I ever heard. Would you rob your own father?”