Appalled by this crudely evil speech, Cane started back. "Are you a man or a demon, Mr. Enistor?"
"You can ask riddles when you have delivered your message. Though, to be sure," said Enistor, sitting down, "there is little need. This handsome young pauper paid court to my sister, who was always weak and silly. His sham heroism and his good looks and effusive compliments worked on her feeble mind, and she made him her heir. Am I right?"
"Lady Staunton made Mr. Montrose her heir certainly," said Cane, shutting up his little black bag and putting on his hat to leave. "But your description of my new client is wrong. He does not flatter any one, and his heroism was not a sham. Nor was your sister feeble-minded, but a very clever——"
"Woman," ended Enistor sharply, "and being so became the prey of this adventurer. Well, Mr. Cane, now that you have delivered your message you can go, and I shall be obliged if you will send me the one thousand pounds as soon as possible."
"Oh, certainly," cried Cane eagerly.
Enistor saw why he spoke so agreeably. "You think that by taking the one thousand pounds I condone the testament of Lady Staunton. Perhaps you are right, but I have more strings to my bow than one. I have been infamously treated and I shall have my revenge."
"You cannot revenge yourself on your sister who is dead," said Cane rebukingly, "and to punish Mr. Montrose, who is perfectly innocent of harming you, would not be the act of a Christian."
"Ah, but you see I am nothing so feeble-minded as a Christian."
"What are you then?" Cane stared.
"A wronged man, who intends to be revenged."