"The papers are in your pocket," interrupted Durgo, advancing, as he noted the unconscious action and guessed its significance. "Give me those papers."
"I have no papers. I will alarm the house——"
"Do so, and you shall be arrested."
"What do you mean?"
"You saw my master, Edwin Lister, enter the Manor-house, and thought that he was his son. Cyril Lister told me as much. From what you said to Miss Huxham about her not being the daughter of the sailor, I believe that you followed my master into the house. What took place?"
"Nothing! nothing! I swear that I did not——"
"Those papers," said Durgo, pointing to the white hand which still clutched feebly at the breast-pocket, "say that the girl is not Captain Huxham's daughter. I want to know whose daughter she is."
"You are talking rubbish. I have no papers."
"I am making a guess, and I believe my guess is a true one. Will you give up those papers, or must I wring your neck?"
With widely-open eyes, the preacher flung himself against the mantel-piece and clutched at a handbell. Just as he managed to ring this feebly, for his hands were shaking, and he was utterly unnerved, Durgo, seeing that there was no time to be lost, sprang forward and laid a heavy grasp on the miserable man's throat, ripping open his jacket with the other hand. In less than a minute he had the papers in his hand.