"I do not say so now. Thorold had nothing to do with it; but I am quite sure that Warrender had. In order to escape me, Beauchamp allowed himself to be drugged by Warrender, and that was why Warrender assisted at the removal of the supposed dead body. I feel certain that Beauchamp is alive." "Alive! Oh! I hope so, I hope so! My dear father!" cried Sophy. "Only prove that he is alive, Captain Lestrange, and I will forgive you all!" "You forget that I am his enemy," was the fierce reply. "Were I able to prove that he is alive, I should at once have him arrested for the murder of your father--my cousin." "It is not true! it is not true!" "It is, and you know it. Beauchamp must have had some very good and strong reason for allowing himself to be buried alive so as to escape me. But for your sake and for my own I will leave Beauchamp, should he be indeed alive, to the punishment of his conscience." "What do you mean?" "I mean that I want money. You are rich, and you can pay me. Give me a thousand pounds, and I will go away and never trouble you again." "I refuse!" She walked up and down the room in a state of great agitation. "If you were certain that Mr. Beauchamp was alive--if you were certain he had committed that crime, you would not let him escape so easily." "I would! I would! I am tired of the whole business." "No, no," insisted the girl; "I don't believe you. If I gave you money, I should only be supplying you with the means to cause further trouble. If my dear father--for I shall still call him so--is alive, I will leave the matter in his hands." "And hang him." "And save him," retorted the girl firmly. "You can go, Captain Lestrange. I shall not give you one penny!" Lestrange made a bound and caught her wrist. "Take care!" he cried, shaking with rage; "I am desperate--I will stick at nothing. If you do not give the money I want, I shall go to the police!" "Go! go! I defy you!" "Little devil!" muttered Lestrange, and he gave her arm a sharp twist. She screamed for help, and as though in answer to her summons, Alan appeared at the door. With an exclamation of rage he sprang forward, seized Lestrange, and flung him on the floor. "You hound!" he cried, panting. "You dog!" "Alan! Alan! Thank Heaven you are here! Let me sit down, Alan; I--I feel faint." While Alan was assisting the girl to a chair, Lestrange rose slowly from the ground. The sudden and opportune arrival of the young Squire disconcerted him greatly, and he began to think it was time to retire. If Sophy refused him money when alone, she would most certainly not yield to his demand now that her lover was beside her. So with deadly hatred in his heart, he stole towards the door, which was still open. On the threshold he recoiled with a shrill cry of fear. Before him stood Herbert Beauchamp, alias Richard Marlow. "You--you here, after all?" Beauchamp, shutting and locking the door after him, strode into the room.