A Son of Perdition Part 28

"I have been trying to reconcile two lovers, but I have failed," she told him.

"What is the cause of the quarrel?" asked the young man, amused.

"A dangerous one. Don Pablo," and she gave details.

"What an old beast!" said Montrose. "If I were that fisherman I'd screw his neck."

"Don't put such ideas into Job's head," cried Alice rebukingly. "He is angry enough as it is!"

"All the worse for Don Pablo, my dear!" and so they left the matter, which was of less importance then than it became afterwards.

CHAPTER XIII

FURTHER SMALL BEER CHRONICLES

When the young people went to church, Enistor took the opportunity of paying a visit to Narvaez. The effort to keep up an appearance of friendship for a man he hated was not easy, and the Squire wished to unbend in the society of one who knew his true sentiments. Also he greatly desired to learn what were Don Pablo's plans regarding the restoration of the fortune, for the Spaniard did not seem to be moving in the matter at all, and valuable time was being wasted. And since Enistor was anxious to get rid of Montrose as speedily as possible, he thought it was just as well to suggest that the scheme--whatever it might be--should be completed as soon as could be conveniently managed.

The master of Tremore wanted to handle the coveted income; he wished to see his daughter married to Narvaez, and finally he desired to learn the nature of this danger at which Don Pablo hinted so frequently. Of course the marriage with the Spaniard, by making possible the training of Alice's clairvoyant powers, would soon disclose this last.

Enistor walked leisurely over the moor to where the evil mount with its crown of monoliths was indistinctly outlined against the grey sky. As it was now autumn, the heavens had lost their summer azure, and the earth had been stripped of its flowering splendour. He wandered through a ruined world, where the red and brown and yellow of the dying bracken were veiled in chilly mists. The ground was sodden, the herbage was dripping wet, and the cries of the birds sounded mournful, as though they were regretting the pa.s.sing of warm weather. That Enistor should see the prostrate body of a man lying amidst the fantastic colours of the moorland seemed to be so much in keeping with the general air of decay and sadness that he did not even start when he bent over the still form. But he did utter an e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n when he looked at the white face and recognised Julian Hardwick.

Why the artist should be here in an unconscious condition Enistor did not pause to inquire. He was above all a man of action, and as it was necessary to revive Hardwick, he hastened to fill his cap with water at a convenient pool. The chill of the fluid on the white face flushed it with returning life, and when Enistor loosened the collar, and shook the body, Julian opened his eyes languidly. In a half-dazed way he murmured something about brandy, a hint which the Squire acted upon by searching the artist's pockets. He soon found what he looked for, and a drink of the generous liquor revived Hardwick so speedily that he was soon able to sit up and talk.

"My heart is weak," he said in a stronger voice, b.u.t.toning his collar.

Enistor was frankly amazed. "Why, you always look singularly healthy."

"Because I am big and well-covered with flesh it is natural you should think so, Mr. Enistor. But the heart doesn't do its work properly. That is why I live so much in the open air, and----"

"Don't talk so much. You are exhausting yourself."

Hardwick took a second drink of brandy, and as the heart quickened he began to look more like his old self. "I am all right now," he a.s.sured his helper, "I can manage to crawl to my lodgings and lie down for a time." He got on to his feet and stretched himself languidly. "I always carry brandy on the chance of these attacks!"

"You couldn't have used the brandy had I not been here to help you,"

said the Squire bluntly. "If you are liable to such seizures you should not venture to wander on these lonely moors by yourself."

"Perhaps not! But it is rarely I become so incapable. Thank you very much for being so kind. I shall go home now."

Then Enistor made an effort which rather amazed himself. "Let me take you home, Hardwick. You are not fit to go by yourself."

Hardwick was as amazed as the man who made this offer. "I didn't think you would bother about me in that way," he said weakly: then he straightened himself with an effort. "Thank you all the same, but I can manage!" And giving his preserver a friendly handshake, he moved along the path which meandered towards Polwellin.

The Squire stood looking after him, thinking that he might fall again and require further a.s.sistance. But the tall figure moved steadily through the mists, apparently possessed of sufficient vital power to reach the haven of home in safety. Then the Squire thoughtfully resumed his way to Don Pablo's cottage, wondering at the discovery he had made.

Hardwick looked so strong and well, and was so ma.s.sive and imposing in appearance, that no one could possibly have guessed that his heart was weak. But Enistor did not wonder at this alone: he wondered also at his own kind offer to go out of his way to help any one in distress. It was rather a weak thing to do, he reflected, and not at all an action of which Narvaez would approve. All the same Enistor resolved to tell the Spaniard if only for his own glorification.

Don Pablo was seated by a huge fire in his sinister study, with a paper in his hands covered with odd signs and hieroglyphics. With his usual serenity he murmured a welcome and pointed to a chair. But he did not speak further for the moment and Enistor employed the time in trying to read the inscrutable face, which was seamed with a thousand wrinkles and made quite inhuman by the pa.s.sionless look of the cold, steady, blue eyes. Shortly the old man laid the paper aside with a sigh of satisfaction.

"What are you doing?" asked Enistor curiously.

"I have been casting Hardwick's horoscope," was the unexpected reply.

"For the satisfaction of his own curiosity he gave me the day and hour of his birth," he smiled in a cruel way. "I don't think he will be pleased at what I have to tell him."

A telepathic message pa.s.sed swiftly from one trained brain to the other and Enistor nodded in a surprised manner. "He may die at any moment,"

said the Squire, translating Don Pablo's thoughts. "Well, that is very likely. I found him unconscious on the moor a short time ago."

"He is not dead?" questioned Narvaez, with unusual interest.

"Oh no. I revived him with water and some brandy he had in his pocket.

Also I offered to see him home."

"Why?" demanded the other coldly.

"Well, he seemed weak and----"

"How often have I told you that other people's troubles do not concern you, Enistor! If you choose to waste your powers on a.s.sisting weaker persons, you will lose much force better employed in your own gain."

"I am not quite so hard as you are," snapped the Squire, sharply.

"Not quite so wise, you mean," was the unmoved response. "However, I pardon your weakness on this occasion, as I don't want Hardwick to die--yet."

"Do you wish him to die at all?"

"My last word implied that I did. It is part of my plan to get the fortune you desire, which also means that I shall secure your daughter as my wife."

"But I don't see----"

"There is no need for you to see," said Narvaez tyrannically; "you do what I tell you and all will be well."

"Do you mean to kill Hardwick?"

"No! There is no need for me to move a finger. His horoscope shows an early death from natural causes. Having found him unconscious, I leave you to guess what those causes will be."

"I have no need to guess. Hardwick's heart is weak."

"Exactly. The organs of his body are healthy, but he has not a sufficiently strong heart. If he could get a fresh supply of vitality he would be a powerful and _long-lived_ man."

"Do you intend to give him that vitality?" sneered the visitor.

Narvaez chuckled. "Yes! You will see that splendid body walking about filled with strenuous life some day soon."

"The body walking about." Enistor stared keenly at the mocking, cruel face. "I must say you speak very strangely."

"I speak as I speak, and what I mean to say I say," rejoined Don Pablo enigmatically. "Let us change the subject, as I am busy. Your errand?"

"I only came to get the taste of that young prig out of my mouth!"