"Yes!" answered Bela defiantly. "He is the best man."
"Well——" exclaimed Coulson.
Suddenly the richness of the situation broke on the spectators, and a gale of laughter swept through the room.
The bishop laughed, too, though he patted Bela's arm encouragingly. At least, she was telling the truth now. It was too extraordinary to be otherwise.
Only the three men by the door did not laugh. With eyes full of hate, they glared at the girl and at the prisoner.
Big Jack, the most astute of the three, was the first to recover himself. It occurred to him that unless the rest of the story were prevented from coming out, their humiliation would be complete and abject.
With a glance of warning at his companions, he threw back his head and laughed louder than any. Shand and Joe, comprehending, followed suit. Their laughter had a bitter ring, but in a gale of laughter the difference passed unnoticed.
The prisoner turned white to his lips. He preserved an unnatural calmness. Only his wild, pained eyes betrayed the blinding, maddening rage that was consuming him.
Bela, whose eyes were only for him, turned pale to match. "Sam," she whispered imploringly.
"Cut me loose," he said thickly.