"He dare not refuse if he wants to save his neck."
"But is he guilty?"
"No." Narvaez-Hardwick laughed contemptuously. "You might have guessed that no pupil of The Adversary would be bold enough to commit murder. He is full of silly scruples. You know who killed me!"
"No, I don't."
"Then you are a fool," said the magician roundly. "Job Trevel is the man."
Enistor started from his chair. "Impossible! Job was away in his----"
"Job was at the cottage on the evening when I died," interrupted Narvaez-Hardwick grimly. "I sent for Rose Penwin to come and see me some time after eight, knowing that Job would follow. I contrived to let him know by impressing a message on his foolish brain. He really was going out in his boat, and at six was about to start when he felt compelled to come to the cottage. He saw Rose on the moor and followed her. By that time I had drawn Montrose to the cottage, so as to incriminate him, and you know the means I used. After I had confessed that I had told a lie about the marriage he went away, and I saw Rose, to talk nonsense and rouse Job's jealousy. I went with her to the gate and kissed her there.
She didn't mind, as I was an old man and had promised she should go to London next week. Job was waiting for her at the gate, having seen her enter the cottage. Then he sprang on me and broke my neck. After that Rose ran away and Job returned to his boat."
"He has not come back yet," said Enistor, horror-struck at the callous way in which Narvaez-Hardwick detailed his wickedness.
"Nor will he. He fears lest the truth should come to light and he should be hanged for my murder. Rose knows, but for her own sake she will hold her tongue. So you see that Montrose cannot escape. He can offer no defence and must be hanged. Go to him and offer him his life on condition that he surrenders the fortune. Then hang him, or pardon him if you will. I don't care in the least. You are bound to me by stronger bonds when the money is gained, and as Julian Hardwick I shall marry Alice and train her as a clairvoyante. We shall go to Spain, where I have my home, as Narvaez, and which as Julian Hardwick I inherit. I think I have managed everything very cleverly."
"Yes," faltered Enistor, awed by the power and frightened by the unscrupulous cruelty of this strange being. "But Montrose has disappeared."
Narvaez-Hardwick frowned. "I know that, but I don't know where he is. I have searched and searched without success."
"But you have not yet been out of doors."
"You fool, have I no means of searching other than in the physical?"
cried the man wrathfully. "I have been looking for him from the other side. It is as easy for me to use my astral body as this physical one.
But The Adversary has placed a veil round him. I cannot see where he is.
Still Alice knows; I am certain of that. She will want to see him: follow her, and then deal with the man as you will. I have placed him at your mercy. But I am bound to say that this would not have been the case had he not killed you in Chaldea, my friend. The Adversary would have interfered."
"He may interfere now," said Enistor, rising slowly.
"He cannot. Montrose owes you the life of which he robbed you. You can do what you like. Where he is I cannot tell, as he is protected so far.
But his evil Karma is too powerful for this protection to continue. He must work out his fate. Follow Alice: she will lead you to him."
"I am sure Alice does not know, Narvaez."
"Call me Hardwick, you fool, else you will be considered a lunatic and will be shut up for one. Alice does know. This much I am aware of. She a.s.sisted him to fly: she knows where he is hidden. Now I think that is all I have to see you about. You can go."
Enistor's pride revolted at being ordered about like a dog. "I wish you would speak more civilly, Hardwick," he said, scowling.
"You spoke civilly to me when you thought I had lost my power, didn't you?" jeered the other. "Don't bend your brows at me, or I shall make you suffer. I have done much for you and expect repayment. Nothing for nothing is the rule of the Left-hand Path."
"I'd like to kill you."
"Oh, my dog is showing his teeth, is he? Take care! I have shown you what I can do. If you want to be shown further----"
"No! No!" Enistor winced at the thought of again enduring that cruel pain.
"Then obey me. Go away and watch Alice so that she may unknowingly lead you to Montrose's burrow. When he is found come to me again. Good-bye."
Enistor gnashed his teeth at the insults hurled at him, but being in the grip of a greater force than he had within himself, there was nothing for it but to yield. He departed with a gloomy face, to carry out his orders. Narvaez, in the splendid body of Hardwick, rejoiced with unholy glee.
"I am winning," he cried exultingly. "Winning all along the line."
CHAPTER XXI
THE CHOICE
Enistor returned to Tremore in a black silent rage, wishing heartily that he could find some one with whom to discuss the position in which he found himself. But there was no one, as the mere statement that Narvaez had taken possession of Hardwick's body would be scouted by the most credulous. There were some things which could not possibly be believed, and this was one of them. The present generation was too material to entertain, for a single moment, so wild an idea, and Enistor knew--as his master had warned him--that he ran a very good chance of being locked up as a lunatic, if he even hinted at the astounding truth.
Thus the Squire's dabbling in unholy matters had isolated him from his fellow-creatures, and, at the moment, he felt the deprivation keenly.
There was nothing he could do but shut himself up in his library and think over his position.
It was not a pleasant one. By his own acts in this and previous lives he had committed himself to bondage, and was treated like a slave who had no rights of his own. What a fool he had been to doubt Narvaez' power, since again and again he had received proofs of it. On the evil hill beside the Druidical altar he had seen with other than physical eyes the terrible elemental creatures which Don Pablo could evoke, and whom he controlled by his powerful will. Any doctor would have told him that it was a case of mere hallucination brought about by the hypnotic suggestion of certain weird ceremonies. But the Squire knew better.
There were ways of entering the invisible world which interpenetrates the visible sphere, and Narvaez, by centuries of study and training, had learned how to open the door. He had flung it wide to his pupil, but it could not be closed again, as Enistor did not know the necessary conjuration. This in itself showed the man how impossible it was for his ignorance to cope with the knowledge of Don Pablo.
And now that the magician's black arts had secured a new body, the perfection of which a.s.sured him a valuable instrument for many years wherewith to rule on the physical plane, Enistor saw painfully clearly that he would be more of a slave to him than ever. He had to obey Narvaez, as he had ample proof of how the man could enforce his will by inflicting torments. For the first time, therefore, the Squire began to consider how he could escape from his thraldom, and ruefully confessed the truth of the significant text, "The way of the transgressor is hard!" Had Enistor been master instead of slave he would not have troubled about the saying, but being at the beck and call of a merciless tyrant, he wondered why he had been such a fool as to take the Left-hand Path. So far as he could see there was no chance of retracing his steps.
Yet he had one great hope. With his own eyes he had seen the powerful Lord of the Dark Face struck down in the moment of his wicked triumph, so there was no doubt that the Power of Good was infinitely greater than the Power of Evil. It was in Enistor's mind to seek out Eberstein and ask for his a.s.sistance. The doctor knew as much about the unseen as Narvaez, and perhaps more, since he was in communication with higher planes than the magician could reach. Undoubtedly, Eberstein, always bent upon doing good, would willingly give his aid, but the price demanded would be the renunciation of revenge. That price the Squire felt that he could not pay, especially now, when Montrose lay at his mercy. The death in Chaldea he might overlook, since it was more or less, to the conception of his physical brain, the figment of a vision.
But the money which Montrose unjustly withheld could not be given up, as Enistor needed it desperately to forward his plans for success in the social and political worlds. Therefore he did not seek out Eberstein, as the price which the doctor would ask for giving aid was too great. When the Squire came to this conclusion he heard a faint regretful sigh, which startled him not a little. There was no one in the library and both door and windows were closed. Yet the sound was quite distinct, and Enistor ardently wished that he was sufficiently clairvoyant to see who was present. In a fanciful moment he wondered if his guardian angel had taken his departure, seeing that it was hopeless to induce him to turn from evil to good. But the idea was ridiculous, as the Squire could see no use in anything that did not benefit himself. He rose to his feet fully determined to find Montrose and give him his choice of life or death. If the young man surrendered the money he would be permitted to escape; if he declined, then an uncomfortable death awaited him at no very distant date. Enistor felt quite virtuous in offering the alternative, as he considered that he was giving Montrose a chance of salvation which the man would be foolish not to accept.
As to Narvaez, Enistor hoped that shortly the magician--physically at all events--would remove himself from his path. If Montrose would only act sensibly and escape to Australia or America, after giving up the fortune, then Alice could marry Don Pablo, and go with him to Spain.
Thus Enistor would be left free from all domestic relations and with five thousand a year to act as his ambition urged him. And of course the girl would think she was marrying Julian, for whom she had a great regard; so, failing the fugitive becoming her husband, which on the face of it was impossible, Narvaez, in the body of Hardwick, would have little difficulty in gaining his ends. In this way everything would be very nicely arranged and he could dispense with the a.s.sistance of Eberstein. In his insane egotism, strengthened by the wicked teaching of Don Pablo, the Squire never gave a thought to the idea that he was deliberately ruining an innocent man. He was too imbued with the iron rule of the Left-hand Path to flinch at such villainy, and considered that the weaker must give way to the stronger. That was only fair and logical. The irony of this thought was that Enistor, as inferior to Don Pablo, did not wish to submit to him, although the strength of the latter compelled him to do so. Yet he was exercising towards Montrose the very tyranny he resented being exercised towards himself. But no amount of argument could have convinced Enistor that he was illogical.
At afternoon tea Alice made her appearance, looking anxious but determined, since her faith in Eberstein, and in the Great Master of Eberstein, braced her to face the worst serenely. Things were dreadfully tangled, the outlook was black, and, humanly speaking, it seemed that there was no possible chance of happiness for herself and her lover. But since the doctor had foretold not only the coming of calamity, but the pa.s.sing of the same, if bravely endured, Alice was perfectly certain in her own mind that in some mysterious way G.o.d would answer her constant prayers for joy and peace. Thus, although she was pale, her eyes were bright and steady, and she behaved in a calm reasonable manner, as though everything went well with her. Enistor marvelled at her composure, and would have dearly loved to shake it by announcing that he knew she had contrived the flight of Montrose. But this he could not do lest he should place the girl on her guard. Therefore he said nothing, having arranged mentally to follow her when she stole out to seek the hiding-place. "There is no news of that young scoundrel," said Enistor, unable to withstand the gibe. "He has concealed himself very cleverly."
"Douglas is no scoundrel," said Alice steadily; "circ.u.mstances are against him, and he does well to hide, seeing how bitter you are against him."
"A lie set forth in bad English," sneered the Squire. "He is a scoundrel, as every murderer is, and I am not bitter against him. I only wish to see justice done."
"You care nothing for justice, father. All you wish is to use this accusation to force Douglas to give up Aunt Lucy's money."
"You are very impertinent, but you speak truly enough. My main desire is to get that money, and unless Montrose surrenders it he shall hang."
"You will have to catch him first," said the girl coldly, but said no more. For her father was behaving so wickedly in her opinion that she found it difficult to speak to him with any degree of civility.
Enistor peered at her from under his strongly marked eyebrows and scowled in a menacing manner. It occurred to him that she might have gone to see Montrose during the afternoon, in which event she would a.s.suredly not seek him after dark, and therefore he would not be able to follow her to the hiding-place. "Where have you been these last few hours?" he asked acidly.
"I went to see Rose Penwin, who is ill," said Alice quietly.
Enistor, bearing in mind what Narvaez had stated, started violently.
"What did she tell you?"
"Nothing! What is there she could tell?"
"One never knows what a silly girl like that will say," retorted the Squire, rea.s.sured that the secret of the murder was safe. "What else have you done?"