"Then he is guilty of the——"
"I can't be certain of that," interrupted the negro sharply. "I had no time to question Pence. As soon as I got the papers which he carried in his breast-coat pocket I slipped through the window. Lucky that I did so, for his landlady came in almost immediately in answer to the ring of the handbell. If he hadn't sounded it I should not have rendered him insensible, but I had to do so for my own safety."
"Well, well, well!" said Cyril impatiently, and looking at the papers, "we can talk of this later. You say that Miss Huxham's guess is correct?"
"It is. And I congratulate Miss Huxham on her clever brain. Pence was certainly a fool to say as much as he did, and especially to so talented a lady who guessed——"
"There! there! No more compliments. Tell us both at once. Did he speak truly when he stated that Miss Huxham was not the captain's daughter?"
"He spoke absolutely truly, as you will find when you read this," and Durgo placed a bulky roll of paper in Bella's hands.
"Oh!" she said, flushing a bright pink, "how glad I am. But whose daughter am I?" and she made to open the paper.
Cyril laid his hand on the bundle. "We haven't time to read all that now," he said gruffly. "Tell us shortly what you have discovered, Durgo?"
The negro nodded, and addressed himself to the girl. "Your name is Isabella Faith," he stated, "and you are the daughter of Maxwell Faith, who was my father Kawal's firm friend."
The lovers looked at one another. "But how did I come to pass as Captain Huxham's daughter?" she asked breathlessly.