"No one knows, miss—I mean, sir. Mrs. Boyce said as Señor Narvaez had some one to see him last night, but who he was she don't rightly know."
Enistor's eyes rested on Montrose, who started and flushed. "When did Mrs. Boyce discover the body?"
"When she got up early to make the old gentleman's breakfast," said the voluble housekeeper. "He wasn't in his room, as usual, but she thought he might have gone out for a stroll, as he sometimes did. Then later, as he did not return, Mrs. Boyce went out to look and found him dead just outside the gate, looking as quiet as pussy. And please, sir, she wants to know what she's to do, having come as quick as ever she could to tell, so that it mayn't be thought to be her fault, which it ain't, she being one as wouldn't kill a fly."
"Tell Mrs. Boyce that I shall go over to the cottage and see what is to be done," said Enistor quickly, "and send one of the men down to the village for the policeman. We must communicate with the Perchton Inspector."
"And what about Mr. Hardwick as is dead and——"
"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."