More than ever Alice wondered why the Spaniard should wish to benefit Rose by giving her a chance of exhibiting her beauty on the stage, and should desire to make Julian a wealthy man. So far as she could understand, Narvaez was anything but a philanthropist, and, although he had succeeded in convincing Hardwick of his kindly nature and generous disposition, Miss Enistor had her doubts. It was borne in upon her that for his own mysterious ends Don Pablo was acting a comedy which might--and in the case of Job certainly would--turn into a tragedy. Regarding Julian's legacy Alice had no wish to interfere, but so far as Rose was concerned she thought it would be just as well to warn the Spaniard that he was playing with fire. With this determination she came in sight of Don Pablo's cottage about half an hour before the time appointed for the meeting with Douglas on the mount. It was such a glorious day that there were quite a number of people on the moors, mostly women, who were gathering bracken and cutting peat. The blustering winds of previous days had died away, and rain had ceased to deluge the country, so that the vast spaces of many-coloured herbage spread largely and clearly under the grey-blue sky. There were no mists to veil the view or blur the outline of distant hills, and but for the keen nip in the air and the presence of frost in deep hollows where the pools were iced over, it might have been summer. Alice quite enjoyed the walk in the pale sunshine, and her cheeks grew more rosy and her eyes brighter while she advanced towards the trysting-place. When she came unexpectedly upon Don Pablo taking the air, some trifling distance from his cottage, Miss Enistor looked more charming than ever the old man had seen her. He was aware of her coming with that preternatural acuteness which distinguished him, and came forward with a gallant air of greeting which ill accorded with his withered looks. The man appeared to be older than ever, and--as Alice thought--more wicked. "This is indeed a surprise," smirked the elderly lover, bowing; "are you on your way to see me?" "I am on my way to see Mr. Montrose," replied Alice coldly, for the man revolted her now as always; "but I did intend to call in at your cottage." "How kind of you. Permit me to lead you into my humble abode." "No, thank you. I can talk to you here. It is about Rose Penwin." "Indeed! She has been telling you how I wish to forward her fortunes." "No. But Dame Trevel told me and I came to expostulate." Narvaez grinned wickedly. "For doing a kind action. Surely not." "I don't see where the kindness comes in, to launch a girl on the London stage and place her in the midst of temptation, when she could be a happy wife in Polwellin."