“Yes. What time was it when you heard Mr Samuel tell his cousin to go out and post a letter?”
“Never heard anything of the kind, sir, at any time.”
“That will do,” said his employer.
“Row on,” thought Pringle. “I hope he isn’t going to catch it again.”
Then as the door closed Mr Brandon, whose countenance was flushed and his eyes angry-looking, turned upon his son.
“Do you think I am blind, sir?” he said sharply.
“No, father: I don’t know what you mean.”
“Then I’ll tell you, sir. I mean that you have told me a miserable falsehood—a disgraceful falsehood.”
“I haven’t, father. I told Tom here to take the letter;” and he gave his cousin a fierce look which evidently said, “Say I told you, or it will be the worse for you,” and he accompanied the look with a sharp kick under the desk, which took effect on Tom’s shin, rousing him to a pitch of fury and obstinate determination.
“Oh, you haven’t, eh?” said Mr Brandon. “Tom, did your cousin tell you to post that letter?”