“You won't get any thing out of me,” said Leon, fiercely. “In the first place, the sight of you is one of the chief things,” said Reginald, with a sneer. “After having heard your sad fate, it is something to see you here in the flesh.” “It's that infernal porter!” cried Leon, half to himself. “What do you mean? Do you blame him for letting me in--_me_--Reginald Dudleigh-your elder brother?” “You're disinherited,” growled Leon. “Pooh!” said Reginald. “How can the eldest son be disinherited? But I'm not going to waste time. I have come to call you to account for what you have done, and I have that to say to you which you must hear, and, what is more, you must obey.” If Leon's face could have grown whiter than it already was, it would have become so at these words. His fear seemed swallowed up in a wild overmastering rush of fury and indignation. He started back and seized the bell-rope. “I don't know you!” he almost yelled. “Who are you!” Saying this he pulled the bell-rope again and again. “Who are you?” he repeated over and over again, pulling the bell-rope as he spoke. “I'll have you turned out. You're an infernal impostor! Who are you? I can prove that Reginald Dudleigh is dead. I'll have you turned out. I'll have you turned out.” While he was speaking, his frantic and repeated tugs at the bell had roused the house. Outside the rush of footsteps was heard, and soon a crowd of servants poured into the room. “You scoundrels!” roared Leon. “What do you mean by letting strangers in here in this way? Put this fellow out! Put him out! Curse you! why don't you collar him and put him out?” As the servants entered, Reginald turned half round and faced them. Leon shouted out these words, and shook his fist toward his brother, while the servants stared in amazement at the astonishing spectacle. The two brothers stood there before them, the one calm and self-possessed, the other infuriated with excitement; but the wonderful resemblance between them held the servants spell-bound. As soon as he could make himself heard Reginald spoke. “You will do nothing of the kind. Most of you are new faces, but some of you remember me. Holder,” said he, as his eyes wandering over the faces before him, rested upon one, “don't you know your young master? Have you forgotten Reginald Dudleigh?” As he said this an old man came forth from the rear and looked at him, with his hands clasped together and his eyes full of tears. “Lord be merciful to us all,” he cried with a trembling voice, “if it beant Master Reginald hisself come back to life again and me mournin' over him as dead! Oh Master Reginald, but it's glad I am this day. And where have ye been?” “Never mind, old man,” said Reginald, kindly; “you'll know soon enough.” Saying this, he shook the old man's hand, and then turned with lowering brow once more upon Leon.