Cyril shrugged his shoulders, indifferently. "You can try, if you like, but I don't propose to let you do it. Come, Captain Huxham, let us both be reasonable and talk matters over."
"Y're on m' land; git off m' land," shouted Huxham, swinging his fists like windmills.
"Go, Cyril, go," implored Bella who was terrified lest there should be a hand-to-hand struggle between the two men. That was not to be thought of, as if Lister killed the captain, or the captain killed Lister, there would be no chance of her becoming the wife of the man she loved.
"I am quite ready to go," said Cyril, keeping a watchful eye on Huxham; "but first I should like to hear why you, sir, object to my marrying Bella." He spoke quietly and firmly, so that the level tones of his voice, and the admirable way in which he kept his temper, had a cooling effect on the enraged sailor.
Huxham, born bully as he was, found that it was difficult for him to storm at a man so cool, and calm, and self-controlled. "Y' ain't m' chice," said he in lower but very sulky tones; "m' gel's goin' t' merry th' sky-pilot, Silas Pence."
"Oh, no, she's not," said Lister smoothly; "she will marry me."
"If she does, she don't get no money o' mine."
"That will be no hindrance," said Bella, who was rapidly regaining her colour. "I am willing to marry Cyril without a penny."
"Y' shent, then," grumbled her father savagely.
"I have yet to hear your objections, sir."