wanted the money for, and what he's done with it. He shall repent
it. I'll turn him out. I said I would, and I'll do it. He shan't
brave me. Go and fetch him."

"Dunsey isn't come back, sir."

"What! did he break his own neck, then?" said the Squire, with
some disgust at the idea that, in that case, he could not fulfil his
threat.

"No, he wasn't hurt, I believe, for the horse was found dead, and
Dunsey must have walked off. I daresay we shall see him again
by-and-by. I don't know where he is."

"And what must you be letting him have my money for? Answer me
that," said the Squire, attacking Godfrey again, since Dunsey was
not within reach.

"Well, sir, I don't know," said Godfrey, hesitatingly. That was a
feeble evasion, but Godfrey was not fond of lying, and, not being
sufficiently aware that no sort of duplicity can long flourish
without the help of vocal falsehoods, he was quite unprepared with
invented motives.

"You don't know? I tell you what it is, sir. You've been up to
some trick, and you've been bribing him not to tell," said the
Squire, with a sudden acuteness which startled Godfrey, who felt his
heart beat violently at the nearness of his father's guess. The
sudden alarm pushed him on to take the next step--a very slight
impulse suffices for that on a downward road.