'Mordicai's!' exclaimed Lord Clonbrony, with a sudden blush, which
he endeavoured to hide by taking snuff. 'He is a damned rascal, that
Mordicai! I hope you didn't believe a word he said--nobody does that
knows him.'

'I am glad, sir, that you seem to know him so well, and to be upon your
guard against him,' replied Lord Colambre; 'for, from what I heard of
his conversation, when he was not aware who I was, I am convinced he
would do you any injury in his power.'

'He shall never have me in his power, I promise him. We shall take care
of that. But what did he say?'

Lord Colambre repeated the substance of what Mordicai had said, and Lord
Clonbrony reiterated--'Damned rascal!--damned rascal! I'll get out
of his hands; I'll have no more to do with him.' But, as he spoke,
he exhibited evident symptoms of uneasiness, moving continually, and
shifting from leg to leg like a foundered horse.

He could not bring himself positively to deny that he had debts and
difficulties; but he would by no means open the state of his affairs
to his son--'No father is called upon to do that,' said he to himself;
'none but a fool would do it.'

Lord Colambre, perceiving his father's embarrassment, withdrew his eyes,
respectfully refrained from all further inquiries, and simply repeated
the assurance he had made to his mother, that he would put his family to
no additional expense; and that, if it was necessary, he would willingly
give up half his allowance.