"But what can we do, mother?"

"Are you a son of mine to talk like that?" she asked. "Can you, a strong man, give up tamely?"

"No," cried Paul. "I'll not give up tamely; but of course her father is against me, and he has chosen Ned Wilson for her. As you say, he'll be one of the richest men in Lancashire, and now that Mr. Bolitho has become a judge, his income will not be so much as it was. However, I'll put a stop to it; I can and I will!"

"How can you do it?" asked the mother.

"Never mind," replied Paul. "But it shall be done." That same night he wrote a letter to Ned Wilson.

"Dear Sir," he wrote.

"Circ.u.mstances necessitate that I shall have an interview with you immediately on a very important matter. Will you kindly let me have a note by return of post when and where I can see you? I may add that the matter is of such importance that you must not think of refusing me."

The next day he received a type-written letter from Wilson, in the third person:

"Mr. Edward Wilson is sorry that he cannot see Mr. Paul Stepaside, as there is no conceivable matter on which he could think of granting him an interview."

Paul read this curt note with a grim smile upon his lips and an almost murderous look in his eyes. But he made no comment.

Before many hours were over he had discovered Wilson's whereabouts, and had determined to waylay him. They met in a lane not far from Howden Clough.

"Mr. Wilson," said Paul. "Just a word, please."

Ned looked at him with great hauteur, and then was about to pa.s.s by without further notice.

"No," said Paul, "That will not do. You received my letter."

"And you received mine."

"That was why I followed you here," said Paul. "I told you that the matter on which I wished to see you was of the utmost importance."

"I do not transact any business with you," said Wilson. "And there is no other matter in which we can be mutually interested. Let me pa.s.s, please."

"You cannot pa.s.s until you have heard what I have said to you. I am sorry to have to meet you in this way----"

"Not so sorry as I am!" interrupted Wilson. "Still, I will hear you.

What is it?" He spoke as though Paul were a persistent beggar, and seemed to regard him as a millionaire might regard a pauper.

"It's this," said Paul. "I noticed in the _Brunford Gazette_ this morning that you are engaged to marry Miss Mary Bolitho."

"And what then?" said the other. "I do not discuss such matters with men of your cla.s.s."

"It must be contradicted immediately," said Paul quietly. Wilson looked at Paul in astonishment. "I think you must be out of your mind!" he said.

"No, no; I am sane enough. Will you write a letter to the editor, denying this rumour, or must I?"

"In Heaven's name, why should I?"

"I know it's not true"--and Paul still spoke quietly--"that is why this paragraph must be contradicted at once."

Wilson laughed as though he were enjoying a joke, but it was easy to see that he was far from comfortable. He did not like Paul's quiet way of talking. He did not understand the tone of his voice.

"Of course," said Wilson, at length. "I cannot discuss these matters with you. I would sooner discuss them with one of our grooms.

Whatever be the truth of the report, it cannot have anything to do with such as you. Still, I will humour you. What's the matter?"

"This is the matter," replied Paul. "You are not fit to a.s.sociate with such as she."

"Come, come, my good fellow. I have borne a good deal, and I am nearly at the end of my patience. Besides, I cannot allow Miss Bolitho's name to be bandied about by such as you."

"Will you kindly deny that statement which appears in the _Brunford Gazette_?" persisted Paul, still quietly.

"Certainly not!"

"Then I must make you," said Paul.

"Make me! You!"

"Yes, I!"

"And how, pray?"

"Simply that I shall tell Miss Bolitho the truth about you if you don't."

"The truth about me?"

"The truth about you. You see, I happen to know a good deal about you.

Oh, you needn't start. I have all particulars and proofs to the minutest detail. If you do not wish Miss Bolitho to know exactly the kind of man you are, what your responsibilities are, and your duties are, you must send a note to the editor, signed by yourself, declaring that there is no truth whatever in the announcement."

"You spy! You sneaking hound!" said the other, quite losing control over himself.

"Spy, if you like," said Paul. "Sneaking hound also comes well from such as you; but, as it happens, I have had my reasons for a long time for forming certain impressions about you; and as Miss Bolitho is a friend of mine--naturally, I take an interest."

"A friend of yours!" said Wilson.

"Of mine," said Paul. "Now then, will you do what I tell you?"

Neither of them knew that they were being watched, and neither of them knew that, although their conversation was not overheard, two men could hear angry voices, and were wondering what it could be about. These two men knew of the feud which existed between them, and knew that each hated the other.

"Will you write that letter, and give up all thoughts of such a thing for all time?"

Wilson answered in language which I will not set down. This time his words were loud enough for the two men to hear--words which were calculated to rouse anger in the heart of the mildest of men, and Paul was not a mild man. They saw Paul look towards the other with murder in his eyes, saw his hand uplifted as if to strike, then they saw him master himself.

"Very well, then," he said. "I shall do what I say," and turned on his heel to walk away.

He had not gone six steps, however, before Wilson, blind with rage and the pent-up fury of years burning in his heart, rushed after him, and with all the strength that he possessed struck Paul on the head with an ivory-handled walking stick. The young man fell to the ground with a thud, for the moment stunned, while Wilson stood over him trembling with pa.s.sion, and as if waiting for an attack.