"Well, father, here I am; Hannah said you wanted me."
Harry's voice was as calm as she could make it, but her young limbs trembled, and her face was very pale.
[Illustration: "SHE DRAGGED UPON HIS ARM.">[
"Come here—nearer!" cried Trevethick, hoarsely, seizing her by the wrist. "Do you know that you are the only creature but two—but one, I may say, for gratitude ain't love—that I have ever loved in this world—that I have worked for you, planned for you, and for you only, all my life?"
"Yes, father; and I am very grateful for it," answered she, submissively.
"No doubt," sneered the old man; "and the way you show how much you feel it, the way you show your duty and your love to your father in return, is to put a thief—a lying, cheating thief—in the road to rob him!"
"You must be mad, father!" exclaimed Harry, in blank amazement. "I know no thief!"
"You know Richard Yorke, you wicked, wanton wench!" interrupted Trevethick, passionately. "And how could he have heard of yonder box except through you? Of course you'll lie; a lie or two is nothing to one like you. But here's the proof. The padlock has been opened, the money taken. Who did it? Who could have done it, except him, or you?"
"As I am a living woman, father, as I hope for heaven," answered Harry, earnestly, "I did not do it, and I do not know who did."
"You didn't, and you don't! The thing's incredible. Reach here that Bible." He still held her by the wrist. "You shall swear that, and be damned forever! What! you never told that villain where my money lay?"