"You needn't trouble about that. Do what I say." The housekeeper vanished reluctantly, as she dearly wished to remain and discuss the deaths. The moment the door was closed Enistor turned to Montrose with a frown. "What do you know of this?" he asked imperiously. Alice started and spoke before her lover could open his mouth. "Douglas cannot possibly know anything," she cried indignantly. "What do you mean, father?" "I mean that Montrose was the last person who saw Don Pablo alive." "You can't be sure of that," said the young man, very pale but very quiet. "I certainly called on Don Pablo shortly after eight o'clock, to question him concerning the lie he told about me. But I left him some time before nine perfectly well. His death is as great a surprise to me as to you, Mr. Enistor." "I hope the police will take that view," sneered the Squire. "You returned here after nine and went straight to bed, when you might have guessed that I was in the library waiting for your report." "I was too upset to give any report," said Montrose shortly. "Oh, I quite believe that." "Douglas! father," cried Alice imploringly, as she could not yet understand the precise situation. "What does it all mean?" "It means so far as I can judge that Montrose forced the lie down Narvaez' throat, as he said he would, and very thoroughly." "Do you accuse me of killing the man?" said Montrose hoarsely. "Yes!" said the Squire, looking at him with grim directness. "Then I deny absolutely what you say," declared the other vehemently; "as I said before, I left Narvaez in his room shortly before nine o'clock, after he had confessed to me that what he mentioned to you was untrue." "What did he mention to father?" questioned the girl, terrified at the furious looks of the two men. "I was with Julian until eleven, and when I returned home you had gone to bed, Douglas. I came to tell you about Julian, father, but you did not say that anything had happened." "Nothing had happened then so far as I know," said Enistor quickly. "My dear, I saw Don Pablo yesterday and he told me that Montrose was already married." "Married! Married!" Alice started back the picture of dismay. "It is a lie!" cried Douglas fiercely, and passed round the table to take her in his arms. "I swear it is a lie, dear. When your father told me after dinner I went at once to Narvaez. He confessed calmly that he had spoken falsely so as to prejudice my chances of making you my wife. Had he been a younger man I should have thrashed the life out of him. As it was I told him my opinion and then left him quite unharmed. I swear that I never laid a finger on him, but returned here shortly after nine o'clock to go to bed. I was too indignant at what had been said to seek out your father and explain." Enistor laughed coldly. "That is a very neat story. Do you believe it, Alice?" The girl clung to her lover. "Believe it: of course I believe it. Douglas would not tell a lie." "Not even to save his own neck?"