Archy was silent.
“They will put him in prison, and—and—”
There was a low burst of sobbing, and the young midshipman felt his own breast swell.
Suddenly the sobbing ceased, and the girl said slowly,—
“You shall not tell. It is not my father’s doing. He could not help it. He hates the smugglers. You shall not tell. Pray, pray, say you will not!”
Archy was silent.
“Do you not hear me?” came in imperious tones.
“Yes, I hear you,” he replied; “but it is my duty, and—”
“Yes—yes—speak!”
“I must.”