Within half an hour of midnight he arrived at the hill, and saw the shadow of a man who was leaning against a tree. Gautran had been walking for nearly three hours, and during the whole time the storm of thunder and lightning had continued at intervals, now retreating, now advancing; but its full force had been spent many miles away, and it did not seem likely to approach much nearer to the House of White Shadows.

"The man is there," muttered Gautran, "with his face still towards the Advocate's window. What is his purpose?"

He was curious about that, too, and thought he would endeavour to ferret it out. It might be useful to him in the future, for it concerned the Advocate. There was plenty of time before him to accomplish his own murderous design.

John Vanbrugh heard Gautran's footsteps.

"Who comes this way?" he cried.

"A friend," replied Gautran.

"That is easily said," cried Vanbrugh. "I am not in a trustful mood. Hold off a bit, or I may do you mischief."

"Do you not know me?" asked Gautran, approaching closer, and measuring himself with the dark form of Vanbrugh. They were of exactly the same height.

"What, Gautran!" exclaimed Vanbrugh in a gay tone.

"Yes, Gautran."

"Welcome, friend, welcome," said Vanbrugh, with a laugh. "Give me your hand. Veritable flesh and blood. You have a powerful grip, Gautran. I thought we should meet again. What caused you to make yourself scarce so suddenly last night? You vanished like a cloud."

"I had business to do. Have you got any more of that brandy about you?"

"I am not sure whether you deserve it. After emptying my flask, you may make off again. A poor return for hospitality, my friend."

"I promise to remain with you--it is what I came for--if you give me brandy."

"I take your word," said Vanbrugh, producing a flask. "Drink, but not too greedily."

Gautran took a long draught and returned the flask, saying, "You have no food, I suppose?"

"Why, yes, I have. Warned by previous experiences I supplied myself liberally for this night's watch. I'll not refuse you, though I spent my last franc on it."

"Ah," said Gautran, with some eagerness, for an amicable exchange of clothing would render the more villainous part of his task easier of accomplishment, "you are poor, then?"

"Poor? Yes, but not for long, Gautran. The days of full purses are coming. Here is the food. Eat, rogue, eat. It is honest bread and meat, bought and paid for; but none the sweeter for that. We know which fruit is the sweetest. So you had business to do when you took French leave of me! How runs the matter? I had just pointed out the Advocate's window to you--your own special Advocate, my friend, to whom you have so much reason to be grateful--when you disappeared like an arrow from a bow. What follows then? That, leaving me so abruptly, your business was important, and that it concerned the Advocate. Right or wrong, rogue?"

"Right," replied Gautran, as he devoured the food.

"Come, that's candid of you, and spoken like a friend. You did not know, before I informed you, that he lived in the villa yonder?"

"I did not."

"I begin to have hopes of you. And learning it from me, you made up your mind on the spur of the moment--your business being so important--to pay him a friendly visit, despite the strangeness of the hour for a familiar call?"

"You've hit it," said Gautran.

John Vanbrugh pondered a while. These direct answers, given without hesitation, puzzled him. He had expected to meet with prevarication, and he was receiving, instead, straightforward confidence.

"You are not afraid," he said, "to speak the truth to me, Gautran?"

"I am not."

"But I am a stranger to you."

"That's true."

"Why, then, do you confide in me?"

It was Gautran's turn now to pause, but he soon replied, with a sinister look which John Vanbrugh, in the darkness, could not see:

"Because, after what passes between us this night, I am sure you will not betray me."

"Good," said Vanbrugh; "then it is plain you sought me deliberately, because you think I can in some way serve you."

"Yes, because you can in some way serve me--that is why I am here."

"Then you intend to hide nothing from me?"

"Nothing--for the reason I have given."

A flash of lightning seemed to strike the spot on which he and Gautran were conversing, and he waited for the thunder. It came--long, deep, and threatening.

"There is a terrible storm somewhere," he said.

"It does not matter," rejoined Gautran, with a shudder, "so long as a man is not alone. Don't mind my coming so close. I have walked many a mile to find you. I have not a friend in the world but you."

"Not even the Advocate?"

"Not even him. He will see me no more."

"He told you that last night?"

"Yes."

"But how did you get to him, Gautran? You did not enter by the gates."

"No; I dropped over the wall at the back. Tell me. It is but fair; I answer you honestly enough. What are you watching his house for? A man does not do as you are doing, on such black nights as this, for idle pastime."

"No, indeed, Gautran! I also have business with him. And strangely enough, you, whom I met in the flesh for the first time within these last twenty-four hours, are indirectly concerned in it."

"Am I? Strange enough, as you say. But it will not matter after to-night."

Some hidden meaning in Gautran's tone struck warningly upon John Vanbrugh, and caused him to bestow a clearer observance upon Gautran's movements from this moment.

"There is a thing I wish to know, Gautran," he said. "Between vagabonds like ourselves there is no need for concealment. It is a delicate question, but you have been so frank with me that I will venture to ask it. Besides, there are no witnesses, and you will not, therefore, incriminate yourself. This girl, Madeline, whose spirit follows you----"

Vanbrugh hesitated. The question he was about to ask trembled on his lips, and he scarcely knew how to give it shape in words that would not provoke an outbreak on the part of Gautran. He had no desire to come into open collision with this ruffian, of whose designs upon himself he was inwardly warned. Gautran, with brutal recklessness, assisted him.

"You want to know if I killed her?"

"Why, yes--though you put it roughly."

"What matter? Well, then, she died at my hands."

John Vanbrugh recoiled from the murderer in horror, and in a suppressed tone asked:

"When the Advocate defended you, did he know you were guilty?"

"Aye. We kept the secret to ourselves. It was cleverly worked, was it not?"

"And last night," continued John Vanbrugh, "he received you in his study?"

"Aye--and gave me liquor, and food, and money. Listen to it." He rattled the gold pieces in the palms of his hands. "Look you. I have answered questions enough. I answer no more for a while. It is my turn now."

"Proceed, Gautran," said Vanbrugh; "I may satisfy you or not, according to my whim."

"You'll satisfy me, or I'll know the reason why. There is no harm in what I am going to say. You are a stranger in these parts--there is no offence in that, is there?"

"None. Yes, I am a stranger in these parts. Heavens! what a flash! The storm is coming nearer."

"All the better. You will hardly believe that I have been bothering myself about the colour of your hair. I hate red-haired men. Yours, now. Is there any offence in asking the colour of it?"

"None. My hair is black."

Gautran's eyes glittered and a flash of lightning illuminated his face, and revealed to Vanbrugh the savage and ruthless look which shone there.

"And your height and build, about the same as mine," said Gautran. "Let us strike a bargain. I have gold--you have none. I have taken a fancy to your clothes; I will buy them of you. Two gold pieces in exchange for them, and mine thrown in."

"The clothes of a murderer," said Vanbrugh, slowly retreating as Gautran advanced upon him. "Thank you for nothing. Not for two hundred gold pieces, poor as I am. Keep off. Do not come so near to me."

"Why not? You are no better than I. Three gold pieces! That should content you."

"You have my answer, Gautran. Leave me, I have had enough of you."

"You will have had more than enough before I have done with you," said Gautran, and Vanbrugh was satisfied now, from the man's brutal tones, that it was a deadly foe who stood within a few inches of him, "if you do not do as I bid you. Say, done and done; you had better. By fair means or foul I mean to have what I want."

"Not by fair means, you murderous villain. Be warned. I am on my guard."

"If you will have it, then!" cried Gautran, and with a savage shout he threw himself upon Vanbrugh.

So sudden and fierce was the attack that Vanbrugh could not escape from it; but although he was no match for Gautran in strength, he had had, in former years, some experience in wrestling which came to his aid now in this terrible crisis. The struggle that ensued was prolonged and deadly, and while the men were locked in each other's arms, the storm broke immediately over their heads. The thunder pealed above them, the lightning played about their forms.

"You villain!" gasped Vanbrugh, as he felt himself growing weaker. "Have you been paid by the Advocate to do this deed?"

"Yes," answered Gautran, between his clenched teeth; "he is the fiend's agent, and I am his! He bade me kill you. Your last moment has come!"

"Not yet," cried Vanbrugh, and by a supreme and despairing effort he threw Gautran clear from him, and stood again on the defensive.

Simultaneously with the movement a flash of forked lightning struck the tree against which Vanbrugh had been leaning when Gautran first accosted him, and cleft it in twain; and as Gautran was about to spring forward, a huge mass of timber fell upon him with fatal force, and bore him to the earth--where he lay imprisoned, crushed and bleeding to death.