"If you do you are sure to make a mess of things," warned Hendle, accepting his cousin's egotism with a shrug. "We must lay a trap for Carrington and get him down here. Otherwise he may escape and then matters concerning the murder will never be cleared up." "What sort of a trap?" "You must write to Carrington asking him to come down here--to The Big House--for an interview with yourself and with me. Say that you and I wish to adjust the rights of the property. Carrington knows that you cannot give him his pound of flesh until we are agreed about the will. Also he will never suspect that he was seen in Barship on the night of the murder, or that we have put two and two together regarding the opal. He will come down." "Will he enter The Big House seeing that you have kicked him out?" asked the host doubtfully. "Oh, Carrington has no shame where his own interests are concerned, Mallien," replied the Squire quietly. "He wants money, and is prepared to go to any lengths to get money. Let us get him to ourselves and force him to confess. Meanwhile, we will send Kit to Tarhaven for Lawson, and when the Inspector arrives we can have Carrington arrested. Do you understand?" "Yes," said Mallien, in a rather subdued tone, for Rupert dominated him at the moment. "I shall write as you suggest, and you may be sure that I shall so word my letter as to trap the beast. What a scoundrel," cried Mallien in a state of virtuous anger, "to try and accuse me of a crime which he has committed himself." "He looks after Number One, as other people do, Mallien." "Self! Self! Everyone is eaten up with self, Rupert. No wonder I hate the human race. When I get the money, I shan't give anyone a single penny." "Oh, I am aware of that," rejoined Hendle, contemptuously; "and I shouldn't throw stones at other people if I were you, seeing in what a glass house you live yourself, Mallien. Now don't argue, but do what I tell you. If you don't, I shall wash my hands of the whole affair, and leave you to extricate yourself as best you can." Mallien grunted an assent and scowled as Rupert left the cottage. He was not in the least grateful for the help thus afforded, as he hated the idea of his cousin doing anything for him. Besides, being extraordinarily vain, Mallien never liked anyone to be sharper than himself. And Rupert had proved to be sharper, as he had so cleverly solved the mystery of the vicar's murder. "You think you are a fine fellow, don't you?" growled Mallien, shaking his fist at the retreating form of his cousin; "but you won't get a penny out of me, and you shan't marry Dorinda if I can help it. I'm not going to have you crowing over me"; and thus grumbling ungratefully he retired to his room to write the letter which was to trap Carrington.