"A bastard!"
It is impossible to convey the manner and emphasis with which this word was articulated. It expressed volumes to both uncle and niece. It told a dark history of shame, scorn, and disgrace; explained why, being so above them by nature, he herded with the basest. A painful tale of moral wrong and suffering it unfolded to their imaginations, save that they knew not his name or family. They read from his brief confession all that could have been told them. The earl sighed, shook his head, and was silent. Grace looked upon him with pity.
He contemplated for a moment the effect of this disclosure, and then, turning haughtily away, said,
"The service I have done you is cancelled by your discovery of the baseness of the instrument. There is debt on neither side. Adieu, my lord—adieu, Lady Grace Fitzgerald."
"How know you my name and rank?"
"And mine!" simultaneously exclaimed both.
"It matters not. Thou wilt learn full soon enough to scorn as well as pity me."
With these words he departed. The yacht was cleared of its piratical horde, and the two vessels separated, and soon were steering on opposite courses.