"I shall punish him more!" cried Cyril, striding towards the gate.
"No, no!" said Bella, stopping him. "Think of my good name. It is useless making a scandal. But ask him if what he says is true."
"What does he say?" questioned Cyril, with a note of savagery in his voice.
"Oh hush! hush!" implored Bella, clinging to him. "Speak lower. I don't wish everyone to hear what Mr. Pence declares."
"But what is it? what is it?"
"Ask him. After all, he may be wrong, and—"
Still holding the girl, Lister, mindful of her wish, spoke in a loud whisper to the dusty figure on the other side of the fence. Pence had just risen, sorely bruised, but, unable to leave his rival with the girl he loved, yet lingered in the roadway.
"Here, you," said Lister sharply, "what have you been saying to Miss Huxham? Speak out, you dog, or I'll thrash you thoroughly. Let me go, Bella; let me go, I say."
"No, no! We must avoid all scandal. Think of what might be—be—" she gasped, and without ending her sentence fell half fainting into Cyril's arms.
Then came Pence's chance to discharge the vials of his wrath, for he saw that Lister, hampered by the fainting girl, could not touch him. Stepping up to the palings with his face distorted with anger, he spoke in low tones of hate. "I say now to you what I shall soon say to all. Captain Huxham adopted the girl, whom you falsely say that you love. She has no position and no name and no money, so if you marry her——"