"Stop," said Cyril imperiously. "Can you swear to the truth of this wild statement? Miss Huxham always passed as the captain's daughter."
"She is not Miss Huxham," said Silas, insistently. "She is Miss—I don't know what. I can prove what I say, if necessary. And I shall, unless——"
"Unless what?"
"Unless you renounce her so that she can become my wife."
Bella heard the words and stood unexpectedly erect with fresh energy, wrathful at Pence's persistency. "Nothing will ever induce me to become your wife. And if what you say is true my aunt would have told me."
"Mrs. Vand is not your aunt and Captain Huxham was not your father," said the preacher sullenly. "If needs be I can prove it."
"Then do so," cried Cyril quickly, "for by doing so you will remove the sole barrier to our marriage."
"What do you mean?" asked Silas, recoiling in sheer surprise.
"Let me speak," said Bella, guessing what her lover meant. "We mean that had you held your tongue Cyril and I might have been forced to part. Now that I know I am not Captain Huxham's daughter I can marry him."
Pence looked from one face to the other in the chill moonlight and drew his own conclusions with swift intuition, sharpened by hate. "Then this Lister man is the murderer of Huxham?"