"Not of murder. I swear not of murder."
"There, you see," cried Ferdy, triumphantly. "I never killed Uncle Henry."
"You did!" said Jerce, fiercely. "I defy Clarke to contradict me."
"I do contradict you."
"Remember, Clarke, what I know, said Jerce, menacingly.
"Know," said the vicar, despairingly, "yes, you know, and you have made use of what you know to make me act unjustly towards Ferdinand. I should have had him for a son-in-law but for you, and my poor girl would have been happy. I held my peace, because you threatened to expose my unhappy son's guilt. But I shall do so no longer. I refuse to stand by and see Ferdinand accused of murder."
"Your own son is a murderer," said Jerce, savagely.
"Ah," said Anthony, significantly, "So you knew that."
"He knew it, and he threatened me with it. He wanted to let all the world know that Felix Exton was Frank Clarke," cried the vicar, "and I--for my daughter's sake--held my peace."
"About what?" asked Anthony, quickly.