"I did not steal it," said Leo, proudly. "You know as well as I do that this—this"—he winced—"father of mine took it away from the chapel."
"That is just where you are wrong. He did not—"
"Mrs Gabriel!" Pratt's voice sounded dangerous. She was quiet at once, and looked at him in a frightened way. But Leo had heard enough to arouse his suspicions. He turned on Pratt and seized him by the arm.
"Have you been telling a lie?" muttered the unhappy young man.
His father shook him off. "It's no use telling another one," he said in a dogged way; "now you know so much you may as well know all. I know nothing about the cup; but, to clear you, I took the blame on myself. You see, Leo," he said calmly, "my character is already so bad that a robbery more or less does not matter. I did it for you, my boy, as I have done everything else. I wanted you to be a gentleman and marry the girl of your heart. Sybil loves you, and I thought when the vicar knew you were innocent that he would let you marry her."
"He might have done so," said Leo, sitting down in absolute despair; "but since Mrs Gabriel told him that I was illegitimate, he has never been the same. He is a proud man."
"Too proud to let the son of a thief marry his child!" taunted the woman.
"He doesn't know that Leo is my son," said Pratt, fiercely.
"I intend to tell him as soon as you are away," she said.
"You will do nothing of the sort," said Pratt in a slow, venomous way which made her shrink back. "By speaking to the vicar and telling a lie you have caused trouble enough. He must know no more."