"It's a lie!"

"Ask your young friend if it is a lie. You talk about my having insulted your daughter, Enistor: what about the insult of a married man coming to woo the girl in so shameless a fashion?"

The Squire frowned and was too astounded to speak for a few moments, during which Don Pablo eyed him curiously. When he did speak it was again to deny the truth of the amazing statement. "Beyond the fact that Montrose will not give up the money which should be mine I have nothing against him. He is a well-bred gentleman and----"

"Very well bred to pose as a bachelor," sneered Narvaez contemptuously.

"I don't believe it. The man is honest. You will have to prove what you say, Narvaez. Do you hear?"

"Since you are shouting so loudly I can safely say that I do. Prove what I say: oh, certainly. Send Montrose here to-night and I can give him absolute proof that my statement is correct."

"I shall come with him."

"No!" said Narvaez sharply. "If you come I shall refuse to give the proof in any way. Montrose will be convinced that I can prevent him from marrying your daughter, and to put things straight he may be willing to give up the money."

"Even then," cried Enistor furiously, "I can't allow him to marry Alice.

He would be a bigamist."

"That is his affair and hers," said Don Pablo cynically. "What you want is the money."

"I do, but not at the price of seeing my daughter's life ruined."

"Pooh! What does her ruin or his matter to you? Are you bent upon following the feeble Christianity of Eberstein?"

"Feeble! He was too strong for you the other night."

"He was not!" Narvaez raised himself to his full height and seemed to recover a trifle of his former dominance. "I could have dealt with The Adversary alone, but the power he summoned to his aid overwhelmed me.

However, this is not to the point." The man collapsed again into a weak condition. "Do what I tell you about sending Montrose here at eight o'clock this evening. I can prove that he is a married man. If you like I can get him, through threats to expose him to Alice, to give you the money."

"I shall deal with that," said Enistor angrily. "All you have to do is to prove your statement. He can come alone and when he returns he shall explain what you say. But I don't believe that he is married."

"I think Montrose will believe," chuckled Narvaez, and then waved his thin hand. "Go now, Enistor. I am tired."

"Don't order me about in that arrogant way," shouted the Squire, "you have not the power to do so. You will be tired enough when Montrose has done with you, I can tell you."

"Perhaps I will. He threatened to murder me, and to keep his secret he may do so. I don't care: this body is very old and weak. I shall be glad to get a new one."

"To work more evil. Remember how you were warned on that night when----"

"Go away! Go away!" cried Don Pablo in a shrill voice of anger, and his eyes flamed viciously. "I know more about the warning than you do and I despise it. Do you hear? I despise it!" And as on the night when Alice's soul had been loosened from its bonds of flesh he shook his fists in the air.

Enistor did not argue any longer, but went away with a contemptuous shrug of his shoulders. He was more than ever convinced that Narvaez had little power left: all the same the wounded snake might strike in hopeless rage, so it was not wise to tempt the man too far. Besides, on his way back to Tremore, the Squire was filled with rage against Douglas for tricking him. To think that the young scoundrel was married and yet came down to make love to Alice. Eberstein must have known that Montrose was not free, and yet he also had kept silent. So much for the Christianity he professed. It was with a black face and an angry heart that Enistor returned home. He found that Alice and her lover had gone down to see Hardwick in Polwellin, therefore he nursed his wrath until they returned, and it lost nothing by the delay. Even then the Squire did not immediately attack the young man, since the girl was present.

After dinner, as he decided, he would be able to bring Montrose to book for his monstrous behaviour.

Alice could scarcely eat and retired early from the table. Julian was at death's door, as she told her father, and she doubted if Mrs.

Barrast--to whom she had written--would arrive in time to take a last farewell. With the Squire's permission she returned to the dying man accompanied by the housekeeper. Enistor did not object as he rather liked Hardwick, and was sorry to hear that he was pa.s.sing out of life at so early an age. But he put the matter out of his mind when alone with Montrose.

"I saw Narvaez to-day," he said abruptly. "He tells me that you are already married, and swears that he can give proof."

Montrose sprang up almost too startled to speak. "Is he mad to say so?"

"Mad or not, he declares that such is the case. What have you to say?"

"Say? Why, such an accusation is not worth answering. I have never looked at a woman until I met Alice. As to being married," the young man paused with an angry, bewildered look, "the thing is preposterous," he cried indignantly.

"Preposterous or not, Narvaez declares that if you go up to him to-night at eight o'clock, he will give you proof."

"Oh, will he!" Montrose glanced at his watch. "It is twenty-five to eight now. I will go at once, and shall arrive at Don Pablo's cottage shortly after the hour he mentions. Then----"

"Well, what then?" demanded the Squire grimly.

"I'll force the lie down his throat," raged Montrose, who was quite beside himself with anger, and, unable to speak further, he left the room hurriedly.

"Is he or Narvaez the liar?" Enistor asked himself, but could find no reply.

CHAPTER XIX

THE MORNING AFTER

After breakfast disastrous news came from two quarters, and concerned both Don Pablo and Julian Hardwick. While the Squire, his daughter and his guest were ending their meal, the housekeeper rushed into the room with an agitated face to announce evil. Like all her cla.s.s she was delighted to be the bearer of bad tidings, and counted upon making a sensation, which she a.s.suredly did. Enistor had scarcely raised his eyebrows at her unceremonious entry when she burst into voluble speech.

"Oh! sir: oh! miss, here's dreadful goings on. That poor young gentleman who painted pictures is dead and gone."

"I thought he would die," said Alice, with a sob. "He had no strength when I left him last night. Oh! poor Julian: poor Julian."

"But that ain't the worst, miss. Senor Narvaez is murdered!"

Enistor started to his feet and overturned his chair. He could not believe his ears. "Murdered! Don Pablo! Be careful what you say."

"I am careful, sir," cried the housekeeper resentfully. "He's as dead as a doornail, lying outside his cottage with a broken neck. Mrs. Boyce as looked after him came on the corpse this morning, and is now in the kitchen crying dreadful and exhausted, as she well may be, having rushed across the moor at her age to tell of the wicked crime."

"But is it a crime?" asked Alice, deadly pale and anxious.

"For sure, miss. Men don't break their own necks."

"Who killed him?" demanded Montrose sharply.

"No one knows, miss--I mean, sir. Mrs. Boyce said as Senor Narvaez had some one to see him last night, but who he was she don't rightly know."

Enistor's eyes rested on Montrose, who started and flushed. "When did Mrs. Boyce discover the body?"

"When she got up early to make the old gentleman's breakfast," said the voluble housekeeper. "He wasn't in his room, as usual, but she thought he might have gone out for a stroll, as he sometimes did. Then later, as he did not return, Mrs. Boyce went out to look and found him dead just outside the gate, looking as quiet as p.u.s.s.y. And please, sir, she wants to know what she's to do, having come as quick as ever she could to tell, so that it mayn't be thought to be her fault, which it ain't, she being one as wouldn't kill a fly."

"Tell Mrs. Boyce that I shall go over to the cottage and see what is to be done," said Enistor quickly, "and send one of the men down to the village for the policeman. We must communicate with the Perchton Inspector."