As he talked the memory of the wrongs against him flamed in his breast, and he directed his story at Nat, who sat silent and immovable in the corner.
“If I found this aboard the Nettie it proves that he must have come and got it!” he cried. “He boarded the old May, but it was not for this that he came!”
“What, then?” asked Hardy.
“To damage the schooner so that she would break down under the strain of the next race,” flared Code, facing Nat dramatically. Burns only clenched his jaws tighter on his cigar.
“You don’t believe this, perhaps, squire, but listen and I’ll tell you how the old May sank.” And once again he described the crashing calamity aboard the overloaded boat as she struggled home to Freekirk Head with the last of her strength.
“You, squire, you’ve sailed your boats in your 288 time! You know that never could have happened even to the old May unless something had been done. And something was done! Burns had weakened the topm’st and the mainstay!”
All eyes were fixed on Nat, but he did not move. He was very pale now, but apparently self-possessed. Suddenly, with a hand that appeared firm, he removed the cigar from his mouth and cast it on the floor.
“That,” he said with deadly coolness, “is a blasted fine plot that you have all worked out together. But every word of it is a lie, for the whole thing is without a single foundation in fact. Prove it!”
“I’ll give you a last chance, Burns,” said Elsa in a level voice that contained all the concentrated hatred that Code had detected in her before. “Dismiss these charges against Code.”
“Never!” The word was catapulted from him as though by a muscular convulsion. “He murdered my father, and he shall pay for it!”