But he was determined to act swiftly. After a quarter century, he finally had the means to slap down this crude upstart, who had seduced his niece away from him, and forced her into an unnatural marriage, ending in death.
From that time on they had been enemies. And he had sworn that if it took a lifetime, the rogue would be brought to term for his insolence. That Purceville had risen still further, despite his every intervention, had only fanned the embers of his jealous hatred, driving him on and on. Most galling (to a man who held as sacred trust his own noble birth) were the manipulations, never proved, which had led to his recognition as a Lord, descended from other Lords. Let others believe what they liked! This man was lower born than the commonest sailor, and one day he would hold forth his true nature for all to see.
And now, now that day had come! Throwing caution to the winds, he strode briskly down the long corridors, seeking a direct confrontation with his foe. At length he came upon him in his study, sitting unconcerned with a beautifully printed, leather-bound book in his hands: The Gentleman’s Creed, by Sir William Blythe.
“Purceville,” said the smaller man hotly. “I should like a word.”
“Certainly, Earl,” returned the other, with his hand indicating an adjacent armchair. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” His calm and courteous manner were infuriating. But seeing the book, Earl Arthur contained himself.
“I am here to inform you, Lord Purceville, of my decision to hold a formal Inquest into your conduct as Governor of this province. I have made this intention known to the King, and only await the arrival of his official observer to begin proceedings against you.”
“Well,” replied Purceville calmly. “You are within your rights as Secretary, I am sure. But might I inquire, as an innocent man, what it is I am being charged with?”
Arthur went on to tell him, with some heat, of the suspicious nature of the second corpse, of the bastard daughter imprisoned somewhere within the castle walls, and of the subsequent disappearance of his son, who could perhaps have explained both these things.
But not only was Purceville unruffled, when the girl was mentioned, it was all he could do to suppress a sinister smile.
“Yes,” he said, when the other had finished. “I can see how these things might upset you. And to tell the truth, I am as anxious for the answers as you are. I myself suspected mischief, when my men brought to me the alleged prisoner, number 406. I have since been conducting my own investigation into the matter.