"Do carry me off," she whispered, clinging to him. "Let us have a Sabine wedding. As your wife, you can tell me all your secrets."
"Bella, Bella, I cannot. I am desperately poor."
"So am I, and if I marry you my father will leave all his money to my aunt, for he told Mr. Pence so. But what does poverty matter, so long as we love one another with all our hearts and souls."
"Oh!" Cyril clenched his hands desperately. "Do not tempt me. Only one thousand pounds stands between us. If I had that I could make you my wife within a week. I would steal, or murder, or do anything in the world to get the money and remove the barrier. But"—he pushed her away almost brutally, and frowned—"you are making me talk rubbish. We must wait."
"Until when, Cyril?" she asked sadly.
"Until Destiny is kinder."
"You will tell me——"
"I tell you nothing. Give me one kiss, and then good-bye for——"
He bent to touch her lips, but was caught and hurled back. Bella uttered a cry of astonishment and dread, for between Cyril and herself stood Captain Huxham, purple with anger.