has committed a murder in a tone so careless as to make you feel that a
murder is nothing. I don't suppose my father can be punished for his
attempt to rob me of twenty thousand a year, and therefore he talks to
me about it as though it were a good joke. Not only that, but he expects
me to receive it in the same way. Upon the whole, he prevails. I find
myself not in the least angry with him, and rather obliged to him than
otherwise for allowing me to be his eldest son."

"What must Mountjoy's feelings be!" said Harry.

"Exactly; what must be Mountjoy's feelings! There is no need to consider
my father's, but poor Mountjoy's! I don't suppose that he can be dead."

"I should think not."

"While a man is alive he can carry himself off, but when a fellow is
dead it requires at least one or probably two to carry him. Men do not
wish to undertake such a work secretly unless they've been concerned in
the murder; and then there will have been a noise which must have been
heard, or blood which must have been seen, and the body will at last be
forthcoming, or some sign of its destruction. I do not think he be
dead."

"I should hope not," said Harry, rather tamely, and feeling that he was
guilty of a falsehood by the manner in which he expressed his hope.

"When was it you saw him last?" Scarborough asked the question with an
abruptness which was predetermined, but which did not quite take Harry
aback.