The frame of the burly old ruffian shook as he brought his fist down on a box by his side.
‘By G——!’ he said, ‘if I could find that out, I swing for him now.’
‘You wouldn’t,’ said Marston quietly.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Your story’s new to me, Josh,’ said Marston, quietly, ‘and I didn’t know poor Gertie was dead, for I left England soon after that affair, as you know.’
‘Yes, you left in a hurry, though nobody ever knew why.’
‘That was my business,’ answered Marston, with the air of a man who declined to be questioned; ‘but I left in total ignorance of anything but the attack on Ralph.’
‘Some of us thought that was why you did leave.’
‘I had nothing to do with it,’ said Marston; ‘but I can tell you what you evidently don’t know—your daughter had a sweetheart. One of the men who came here came only to see her. He met her here first, and afterwards they used to go about together in the day-time. One of the men who used your house night after night was Gertie’s lover.’
‘Tell me his name,’ cried Heckett, springing to his feet, with a face livid with rage. ‘Tell me his name, and by Heaven I’ll kill him like a dog.’