“What’s all this?” he asked, suspiciously. “Caroline, what—Sylvester, what have you been tellin’ her?”
Neither answered at once. The captain looked from one to the other.
“Well, what’s up?” he demanded. “What’s the matter?”
The lawyer shrugged his shoulders.
“What’s up?” he repeated. “Humph! well, I should say the jig was up. The murder’s out. The cat is no longer in the bag. That’s about the size of it.”
“Sylvester!” Caroline had never seen her uncle thoroughly angry before; “Sylvester,” he cried, “have you—Have you dast to tell her what you shouldn’t? Didn’t you promise me? If you told that girl, I’ll—I’ll—”
His niece stepped forward. “Hush, Uncle Elisha,” she said. “He didn’t tell me until I knew already. I guessed it. Then I asked for the whole truth, and he told me.”
“The whole truth? Caroline!”
He wrung his hands.
“Yes, Uncle, the whole truth. I know you now. I thought I knew you before; but I didn’t—not half. I do now.”