"You are not fit to govern the parish," said Leigh coolly. "You think of self and of self only." "Well, the will is safe in my desk now," said Mallien complacently, "and, self or no self, I will be Squire of Barship as soon as the lawyers can arrange for the transfer of the property." "You count your chickens before they are hatched, Mr. Mallien. There is much to be said before you step into your cousin's place." "I don't see that," said Mallien doggedly. "Rupert knows that I inherit by that will you found in the muniment chest, as I am the legal descendant of Eunice Hendle. He makes no objection to giving me the property." "Is this so, Hendle?" inquired the vicar. "Yes," answered Rupert quietly. "I can scarcely keep what does not legally belong to me." "You will be a pauper." "I can't help that. I must act honestly." Leigh was silent for a moment and cast a look of admiration on the young man. "You shame us all by your honorable nature," he said after a pause. "I am glad that I am spared to do you justice." "What do you mean by that?" asked Carrington curiously. "Never mind what I mean. I shall explain in due time. Just now I have to tell these gentlemen of the cowardly assault you made on an old man." Leigh turned toward Rupert to whom he chiefly addressed himself. "He held me in talk, Hendle, and all the time he was keeping his eyes on the will. I refused to let him take it away, as he wanted to do." "I only wished to look after Hendle's interests," muttered Carrington. "To look after your own, you mean," retorted Leigh tartly. "Had you meant well you would have gone away after I refused to give you the will. But you waited until my back was turned, and then struck me with the loaded stick you carried. The blow fell on my right temple and I dropped stunned to the floor, while you----" "While I," cried Carrington, rising and speaking insolently, "snatched up the will and walked out of the front door cautiously, so as not to waken those servants of yours." "After which," put in Mallien viciously, "you went through the jungle and buried the will under the sundial." "I did," admitted Carrington recklessly. "You know so much that you may as well know all, for Leigh being alive you cannot touch me in any way. I buried the will, as you say, and afterward wrote that letter to Mrs. Beatson, so that she might find the will and avert suspicion from myself." "Why Mrs. Beatson?" asked Rupert, disgusted with his former friend's brazen assurance. "Because, according to you, she had overheard the conversation between you and the vicar. I guessed that, if she produced the will, suspicion would fall on her. Our meeting her on that night, Hendle, was pure chance, but it helped on my plans. I wished her to procure the will to you, and thus bring suspicion on herself as having killed the vicar." "You infernal villain!"