"Father, how can you think Douglas would murder any one!"
"Ah, I have not the belief in him that you have, Alice."
"Indeed that is true," said Montrose bitterly. "You have always been hostile to me, although for a time you masked your feelings. Now it seems that without a shadow of proof you believe me to be a murderer."
"A shadow of proof!" echoed the Squire tauntingly. "Upon my word, I think there is much more than a shadow of proof. You threatened Narvaez and——"
"And so did Job Trevel," interrupted Alice defiantly. "It is probable that Job murdered Don Pablo."
"Probable, but scarcely possible," said her father coldly. "However, I shall send for the Perchton police and strict justice shall be done. Until the truth comes to light, Montrose must lie under suspicion. Leave him, Alice."
"Never! Never! Never!" cried the girl, with her arms round Montrose's neck. "He is innocent: wholly innocent."
Enistor stepped forward and wrenched his daughter from the young man. "Obey me, Alice, I command you," he cried imperiously. "So far you have had your own way, but now the time has come for me to have mine. Go to your room and stay there until I look into the matter. As to you," he faced Montrose, who was quiet and pale and as still as a statue, "I should order you out of my house but that justice must be done."
"You mean to have me arrested on a charge of murder?"
"I mean to explain the whole circumstance to the Perchton Inspector and let him deal with the matter," retorted Enistor haughtily. "Meantime, if you try to escape you will be taken in charge at my instance by the Polwellin policeman. You understand."