THE UNEXPECTED
As Montrose had stated to Alice, his flight was looked upon as a tacit
admission of guilt. Up to that moment Enistor had not been quite certain
that Douglas was the culprit, as the young man had never given him the
impression that he was one likely to proceed to such extremities. But
this sudden disappearance could only mean that he had done so, therefore
Enistor very naturally concluded that Montrose had been infuriated by
Don Pablo's bitter tongue into revenging himself hastily. Probably he
now regretted that haste, but whether he did so or not mattered little
to the Squire. All that the master of Tremore knew was that his enemy
was now at his mercy, and he intended to take full advantage of the
opportunity. His first step was to inform the Perchton Inspector of that
fatal visit to the cottage.
Then, very speedily, the hue and cry was out, and for miles round the
police explored the country. There was no doubt in any one's mind as to
the actual truth. The threats of Montrose, his presence at the cottage
at the time when the crime had taken place, and now the unexpected
disappearance--these things showed that Douglas and none other was the
guilty person. The next day every one was searching far and wide for the
criminal, and Enistor was so vindictive that he offered a reward he
could ill afford for the capture of the unfortunate young man. This he
did to gratify the hatred which had existed for many incarnations, and
also because he believed that when Montrose found it was impossible to
escape the gallows, he would make over his wrongfully inherited money to
Alice. And once Alice was in possession of the income, her father felt
convinced that he would be able to handle the same. It was a very
plausible plan, and Enistor worked hard to carry it out.
As Alice had come and gone in the space of an hour, and her absence had
not been noticed, save by the housekeeper, the Squire was far from
suspecting that his daughter had organised the flight and selected the
hiding-place. As to the housekeeper, she was quite on the side of the
lovers, since she did not believe for one moment that a nice young
gentleman like Montrose had so vilely murdered Don Pablo. Therefore she
procured the food and wine and the candles which Montrose had taken with
him, and also promised to hold her tongue in spite of all temptation.
Alice trusted her, and she was right to do so, for the woman was
perfectly staunch. Moreover the girl was glad to have some one to whom
she could talk freely. During those dark days she saw little of her
father, but remained in her bedroom praying constantly for the safety of
her lover. It was a terrible ordeal for one so young and delicate and
friendless, but Alice felt that she was being supported by the Master of
Love, and that out of sorrow would come enduring joy.
Mrs. Sparrow came to see her, and the narrow-minded grey woman proved to
be unusually sympathetic. Neither she nor her husband could bring
themselves to believe that Douglas was guilty, in spite of all evidence
to the contrary, and for this loyal support Alice was duly grateful. Of
course the vicar's wife was excessively aggravating with her platitudes,
which did not give much comfort. "All is for the best!" "We must not
murmur at the rod!" "It is for your good that you suffer!"--these
cut-and-dried phrases dropped incessantly from Mrs. Sparrow's prim lips,
and wrought on Alice's nerves to such an extent that sometimes she could
have screamed. But knowing that the grey woman meant well, and
appreciating her defence of Montrose, the girl controlled her feelings,
and accepted these exasperating condolences as genuine, which they
assuredly were. But she longed for the presence of Dr. Eberstein and
wondered why he did not put in an appearance. Yet he remained absent and
silent, not even sending a letter to comfort her in trouble. Still Alice
had such a belief in the man that she did not resent his apparent
neglect. All the same, her faith was being sorely tried.
Job Trevel did not return. According to his mother he had gone away in
his boat to the fishing-grounds at six o'clock on the evening of the
murder. No one therefore could suspect that he had anything to do with
the matter, but the Polwellin folk wondered at his absence. Rose could
give no explanation, as the death of her patron caused her so much grief
that she took to her bed. There was no chance now that she would go to
London and appear on the stage, and beyond possessing some jewels and a
few articles of costly clothing, she had benefited little by Don Pablo's
sinister friendship. She would not even have his name mentioned, and
now that the man was dead both Dame Trevel and Mrs. Penwin hoped that
Rose would marry Job and settle down. The gaudy bubble blown by Narvaez
had burst, and the disappointed beauty had to do the best she could.
Therefore, she and the two old women looked forward to the return of Job
as the best thing that could happen to put the crooked straight. And as
the weather had been stormy, it was presumed that Job had been driven
for shelter into some distant cove, whence he would come back in due
time.
Polwellin was quite excited over the tragic events which had taken
place, and the village was in a ferment over the possibility of this
person and that gaining the reward offered by the Squire. But although
every acre of the moorland was searched the fugitive could not be
discovered. It was over forty-eight hours before the first clue was
found, and that clue came from a quarter least expected. Also it was
given to the man who most wanted to learn the whereabouts of Montrose,
on the second day after the commission of the crime. Enistor was the
man, and Mr. Sparrow was the person who put him into communication with
the individual who afforded the desired information.
"The most wonderful thing has happened, Mr. Enistor," said the vicar,
entering the library on the afternoon of the second day. "The age of
miracles is not yet past, my dear friend."
Enistor scowled. He did not like to be called a dear friend by the
parson, as he thought the man was an ass, and he was quite sure in his
own mind that miracles were all rubbish. He told Mr. Sparrow as much.
"This isn't Palestine to be gulled by such things, and we live in a
scientific era."
"In a very godless era," said the vicar in a tone of reproof. "And I
only hope that the wonderful thing that has happened will convert those
who do not believe in an Almighty Being to a more reverent frame of
mind."
This was a hit at the Squire, who was looked upon as an atheist by Mr.
Sparrow. But Enistor did not take up the challenge. "What is your
miracle?"
"Mr. Hardwick is alive."
"What?" the Squire could not but feel startled at the announcement.
"Ah, I thought you would be amazed," said Mr. Sparrow complacently.
"Wonderful are the works of God and----"
"Oh, hang your platitudes! You talk rubbish. Why, you told me yourself
that Hardwick was dead."
"I did. I saw him lying dead on his bed, and mentioned to Mr. Montrose
that he looked as though he were asleep. It might be a case of suspended
animation," continued Mr. Sparrow, brushing his bald head thoughtfully,
"something of a cataleptic nature it may be."
"Well? Well? Well? Go on."
"There is nothing further to say, Mr. Enistor. The presumed dead man
revived this morning and is now as well as you or I. I was sent for
immediately by the landlady and called to express my astonishment. I
have telegraphed for the Perchton doctor who deposed to the death. He
will be amazed to learn what has taken place. Wonderful! Wonderful!
Wonderful!"
"It is no doubt a case of catalepsy as you say," growled the Squire,
turning to his desk again. "A good thing for Hardwick that he wasn't
buried alive. Now he can enjoy Narvaez' fortune and have a good time."
"I hope he will be a good man, seeing that he has been raised from the
dead like Lazarus. Not that Mr. Hardwick was bad. Indeed I always
thought that he had signs of grace about him. Well! Well! His
resurrection gives me a text for next Sunday. I thought you would be
pleased."
"I am not pleased and I am not sorry," retorted Enistor. "Hardwick is a
nonentity and is nothing to me."
"I thought you were friends, Mr. Enistor. He asks to see you, saying
that he is sure you will come down to him at once."
"He presumes too much. I have quite enough to do in searching for this
scoundrel who murdered my dear friend."
"I don't believe he did," said Sparrow decidedly. "Mr. Montrose is not
the man to shed blood."
"He didn't," said the Squire grimly, "he broke the man's neck. And if he
did not murder Narvaez, who did? Not Job Trevel, who was the other
person who uttered threats."
"It is a great mystery," sighed the vicar, putting on his hat.
"Like this confounded resurrection of Hardwick. Why the deuce couldn't
he stay in the next world after taking the trouble to go there? He's not
much use in this one so far as I can see."
"Question not the decrees of the Almighty," said Mr. Sparrow rebukingly.
"But there: I am speaking to a deaf adder. May I see Miss Enistor to
comfort her and offer up a prayer in her present sorrow?"
"Yes. She's moping in her room and behaving like a fool. Offer up what
prayers you like: they won't do any good. It is all her folly in getting
engaged to that young criminal that has brought things to this pass."
"Mr. Montrose is innocent," said Sparrow obstinately, "and in due time
God will prove his innocence. I wish you a softer heart, Mr. Enistor,
and good-day," and the worthy parson stalked out of the room to seek
Alice and console her.
Enistor did not resume his work immediately. It had to do with the
disappearance of Montrose, as he was writing to the Perchton Inspector.
Before the entrance of Sparrow with his wonderful news, the work had
seemed very important, but now Enistor felt inclined to lay it aside and
seek the lodgings of the artist. Certainly it was wonderful that
Hardwick should recover, after he had been lying dead--as the doctor
insisted--for so long a time. Undoubtedly it was a case of catalepsy,
and Enistor felt curious to see the man who had been so nearly buried
alive. His sister was due the next day to see about the funeral, and
Enistor laughed when he thought how the frivolous little woman would be
surprised. Disappointed also it might be, as she, being the next of kin,
would have enjoyed Narvaez' money had her brother really passed away. It
was all very strange, and after a moment's hesitation the Squire put on
his cap and walked down to Polwellin. He would see for himself what had
taken place, and would question Hardwick concerning what he had seen
during his trance. For trance it was the Squire felt sure, and the
recovery--in his opinion--was a perfectly natural one.
There was quite a crowd round the lodging, and Hardwick's landlady was
recounting her feelings when the dead man had come to life. She
certainly looked as though she had sustained a shock, and seemed rather
disappointed that there was to be no funeral. Enistor listened grimly to
her incoherent explanations, then pushed his way into the house and
sought the artist's sitting-room. He found Hardwick dressed in his usual
clothes and presenting an unusually vigorous appearance. His face was
more highly coloured, his eyes were full of fire, and he moved about
with the swift grace of a panther, alert, vital, impetuously and
wonderfully alive. Enistor stared in amazement at the sight. Never had
he seen before so splendid and powerful a man, or one so charged with
life-force.
"Dying seems to have done you good, Hardwick," he observed dryly.
"It looks like it," replied the other, and although he spoke in his
usual mellow voice, the Squire pricked up his ears and looked at him
inquiringly. The tone was more imperious than that ordinarily used by
Hardwick, and had in it a dominant, crushing quality which startled the
visitor.
The two men stared hard at one another. Hardwick took up his position on
the hearth-rug, leaning easily against the mantelpiece, while Enistor
took possession of a deep arm-chair near the window. The door was
closed, as was the window, so they were quite alone; entirely free from
observation and eavesdropping. The Squire felt that in spite of
Hardwick's late cataleptic trance the artist was more alive than he was,
since wave after wave of powerful animal vitality seemed to emanate from
him and fill the little room. Then Enistor cried out with sudden terror.
He had reason to do so. Every nerve in his body was aching with agony,
and every muscle was twisted with pain. Some force ran through his frame
like fire, excruciating, insistent and terrible. He could not rise from
the chair, he could not even move a finger, but lay where he was inert
and helpless, with that devouring flame tormenting him to madness. And
indeed Enistor wondered why he did not go mad with the frenzy of pain,
while Hardwick smiled on him quietly and calmly and unwinkingly, like an
avenging god. After that one cry the miserable man uttered no other. He
felt that it would be useless to protest in any weak human way. He was
in the grip of a tremendous force and as helpless as a fly in the claws
of a spider.
"I don't think you will taunt me any more with the loss of my power,"
said Hardwick suavely. "I am a fraud, am I? my will has been shattered?
Eh? How do you like that, my dear friend?" and again there came another
surge of the biting fire, which caused the perspiration to break out on
Enistor's forehead.
"Who--who--who are you?" stammered the Squire brokenly. He was beginning
to have an inkling of the appalling truth, for he well knew that only
one man--if man he were--could exercise such devilish power.
"I think you can tell me that."
"Narvaez!"
"Exactly!" The magician withdrew his intense gaze, and loosened his
victim from the bonds of torment, then sat down quietly, smiling and
bland. "I think you have had enough proof."
Enistor feebly moved his limbs and wiped his forehead with his
pocket-handkerchief. His mouth was so dry that he could scarcely speak,
and he thankfully poured out a glass of water from a carafe which was on
the table. As he drank, a delicious sense of freedom from pain passed
through him, and he knew that the man lounging in the chair was curing
what he had hurt. "I have had enough proof," gasped Enistor, setting
down the empty glass. "You are Don Pablo in Hardwick's body."
"Yes! I am very well satisfied with my new suit of clothes," said the
other, looking at his limbs complacently. "Hardwick's retiring soul left
its earthly vehicle in good order. The organs are all sound, the blood
is of the best, and the whole mechanism only needed the extra vitality
which I am able to supply."
"How can you get the vitality?" asked Enistor rather nervously, for the
sight before him was enough to shake an ordinary man to the core of his
being.
"Never mind. I know how to tap the source of life and use what I will.
Hardwick could not do that, being ignorant, therefore he died from sheer
lack of vitality. A lucky thing for me, as it gave me a chance of
replacing my worn-out body with this very splendid instrument."
"Did you kill Hardwick?"
"No. There was no need to kill him. His Ego had been drawing the soul
back for a long time, and knowing that he would soon die, I made my
arrangements accordingly so as to enter the body."
"Then your lie to lure Montrose to the cottage----"
"_Was_ a lie--in your interest," said Narvaez-Hardwick coolly. "It was
necessary that Montrose should be there so as to be inculpated in my
death. Do you understand now why I insulted Alice so that Montrose might
publicly quarrel with me?"
"Oh!" The Squire turned pale as he began to comprehend the infernal
ingenuity with which the magician had wrought out his scheme. "Then
Montrose is not the guilty man?"
"No more than you are. My insult to your daughter was a comedy to
deceive the public as to Montrose's feelings towards me. My behaviour
when you called to taunt me was part of the same comedy. I think I
played my part excellently well, Enistor, or you would have been afraid
to say what you did. I suppose you are now convinced that I still have
my powers: if not----" he leaned forward to fix the other man with his
eye.
"No! No! No, I am quite convinced," and Enistor cowered in his chair.
"You are Narvaez true enough."
"To you and to The Adversary whom no disguise can deceive. But the rest
of the world will know me as Julian Hardwick. When Montrose is disposed
of, my friend, I can then marry Alice as arranged. She was not averse
to becoming Hardwick's wife, so there will be no difficulty over that.
And I am still rich, as I made over all my fortune by will to Hardwick,
and inherit my own money. I have sent for the lawyer, who will come and
see me to-morrow to arrange about the transfer of the property when my
late body is buried. And I think," ended Narvaez-Hardwick pensively,
"that I shall follow the corpse of my benefactor to the grave. Grace my
own funeral," he laughed, much amused.
"Where is Hardwick's soul?" stammered Enistor, who felt the hair of his
head rising with the natural terror of the human for the superhuman.
"Purging its baser qualities on the Astral Plane," said the other
carelessly. "He won't stay long there, as he was such a pious ass he
will probably get his share of heaven before long. I am not interested
in him. I have done him no harm in taking his body. It was useless to
him and is useful to me. Oh!"
Narvaez-Hardwick rose and stretched himself. "It is splendid to have so
magnificent a vehicle. In it I shall live years and years gaining wider
and wider knowledge to extend my empire."
"But the Great Power that struck you down and warned you----"
"Hold your tongue," snarled the magician, with a look which transformed
the kindly face of Hardwick into the semblance of a fiend. "Leave me to
deal with powers higher or lower as the case may be. I have held my own
for centuries against all. Are you about to become a pupil of The
Adversary as I suggested when you taunted me in the cottage?"
"No. And yet The Adversary has greater power than you have."
"It's a lie," shouted Narvaez-Hardwick imperiously. "What struck me down
was a much Mightier Power, which I don't choose to name. I told you that
before. Hold to me, Enistor, and I can give you the kingdoms of the
earth."
"At what price?" Enistor shivered at the look on the other's face.
"You know the price. You must give me Alice for my wife, and you must
obey me in every way. I cannot instruct you unless you do. And now that
Montrose is in your power and has to pay back the life he took from you
in Chaldea, you can force him to give up the fortune."
"He refuses."
"He dare not refuse if he wants to save his neck."
"But is he guilty?"
"No." Narvaez-Hardwick laughed contemptuously. "You might have guessed
that no pupil of The Adversary would be bold enough to commit murder. He
is full of silly scruples. You know who killed me!"
"No, I don't."
"Then you are a fool," said the magician roundly. "Job Trevel is the
man."
Enistor started from his chair. "Impossible! Job was away in his----"
"Job was at the cottage on the evening when I died," interrupted
Narvaez-Hardwick grimly. "I sent for Rose Penwin to come and see me some
time after eight, knowing that Job would follow. I contrived to let him
know by impressing a message on his foolish brain. He really was going
out in his boat, and at six was about to start when he felt compelled to
come to the cottage. He saw Rose on the moor and followed her. By that
time I had drawn Montrose to the cottage, so as to incriminate him, and
you know the means I used. After I had confessed that I had told a lie
about the marriage he went away, and I saw Rose, to talk nonsense and
rouse Job's jealousy. I went with her to the gate and kissed her there.
She didn't mind, as I was an old man and had promised she should go to
London next week. Job was waiting for her at the gate, having seen her
enter the cottage. Then he sprang on me and broke my neck. After that
Rose ran away and Job returned to his boat."
"He has not come back yet," said Enistor, horror-struck at the callous
way in which Narvaez-Hardwick detailed his wickedness.
"Nor will he. He fears lest the truth should come to light and he should
be hanged for my murder. Rose knows, but for her own sake she will hold
her tongue. So you see that Montrose cannot escape. He can offer no
defence and must be hanged. Go to him and offer him his life on
condition that he surrenders the fortune. Then hang him, or pardon him
if you will. I don't care in the least. You are bound to me by stronger
bonds when the money is gained, and as Julian Hardwick I shall marry
Alice and train her as a clairvoyante. We shall go to Spain, where I
have my home, as Narvaez, and which as Julian Hardwick I inherit. I
think I have managed everything very cleverly."
"Yes," faltered Enistor, awed by the power and frightened by the
unscrupulous cruelty of this strange being. "But Montrose has
disappeared."
Narvaez-Hardwick frowned. "I know that, but I don't know where he is. I
have searched and searched without success."
"But you have not yet been out of doors."
"You fool, have I no means of searching other than in the physical?"
cried the man wrathfully. "I have been looking for him from the other
side. It is as easy for me to use my astral body as this physical one.
But The Adversary has placed a veil round him. I cannot see where he is.
Still Alice knows; I am certain of that. She will want to see him:
follow her, and then deal with the man as you will. I have placed him at
your mercy. But I am bound to say that this would not have been the case
had he not killed you in Chaldea, my friend. The Adversary would have
interfered."
"He may interfere now," said Enistor, rising slowly.
"He cannot. Montrose owes you the life of which he robbed you. You can
do what you like. Where he is I cannot tell, as he is protected so far.
But his evil Karma is too powerful for this protection to continue. He
must work out his fate. Follow Alice: she will lead you to him."
"I am sure Alice does not know, Narvaez."
"Call me Hardwick, you fool, else you will be considered a lunatic and
will be shut up for one. Alice does know. This much I am aware of. She
assisted him to fly: she knows where he is hidden. Now I think that is
all I have to see you about. You can go."
Enistor's pride revolted at being ordered about like a dog. "I wish you
would speak more civilly, Hardwick," he said, scowling.
"You spoke civilly to me when you thought I had lost my power, didn't
you?" jeered the other. "Don't bend your brows at me, or I shall make
you suffer. I have done much for you and expect repayment. Nothing for
nothing is the rule of the Left-hand Path."
"I'd like to kill you."
"Oh, my dog is showing his teeth, is he? Take care! I have shown you
what I can do. If you want to be shown further----"
"No! No!" Enistor winced at the thought of again enduring that cruel
pain.
"Then obey me. Go away and watch Alice so that she may unknowingly lead
you to Montrose's burrow. When he is found come to me again. Good-bye."
Enistor gnashed his teeth at the insults hurled at him, but being in the
grip of a greater force than he had within himself, there was nothing
for it but to yield. He departed with a gloomy face, to carry out his
orders. Narvaez, in the splendid body of Hardwick, rejoiced with unholy
glee.
"I am winning," he cried exultingly. "Winning all along the line."