"No, I'm dashed if I do!"
"There isn't much guile in your composition, Lorry," and Ingersoll smiled forlornly. "I gather from Yvonne's story that during the talk on board the cutter her mother spoke of having deserted her in Paris. Unhappily she thereby supplied Raymond with the most important clue. The very next day he had the impudence to remind Mrs. Carmac that she had claimed her 'niece' as a daughter. He drew in his horns when checked; but set about unveiling her early life without delay. Paris is a city of records. It was a simple matter for anyone to discover the date of my marriage, which took place nearly four years before the American ceremony between Carmac and my wife.
"Good God, Man! that poor woman is in a damnable position. Not only can she be robbed of the wealth given her by Carmac, but in England she is likely to be prosecuted on a charge of bigamy! And I shall be responsible! My pride and futile anger deprived her of the only means whereby she could have married Carmac without fear of consequences. I left her no alternative. Oh, Lorry, Lorry, if only I could have foreseen something, howsoever shadowy, of the evils that were impending when we brought those people on board! Had I even known the name of the yacht, I might have been vouchsafed some glimpse of the peril. One glance at Stella herself, or at Carmac, would have revealed an abyss from which I should have recoiled with horror. I might have contrived some subterfuge, some wild scheme, to keep Yvonne and her mother apart. But it is too late! The mischief is done. I am bound hand and foot,—a man delivered over to the torturers!"
Ingersoll's voice trailed off into silence. He sank into a chair, threw aside the pipe which he had filled automatically but not lighted, and buried his face in his hands.
But Tollemache sat bolt upright, his shoulders squared, his strong features frowning in thought. Thus had he looked when swinging precariously above the precipice at Le Faouet, and thus when the Hirondelle was backing into the hell's broth of the reef.
"Tell you what, old sport, we must act, and quickly at that," he said at last, springing to his feet as though some valiant deed was called for straight away.
"But what can I do?" came the despairing answer, and Ingersoll, the leader, the master, the kindly cynic, lifted woebegone eyes to the lithe and stalwart figure towering above him.
"Lots!" cried Tollemache. "First, let's get down to bedrock—then we can talk plainly. I've never said a word to you, Ingersoll, and mighty little to your daughter; but I love Yvonne, and if she will marry me, our wedding day will be the proudest day of my life. I'm not a poor man. I've a heap more money than ever I've owned up to, because I like the life here, and I like you, and I worship the ground Yvonne walks on, and I was afraid that if you knew I was fairly well fixed in a financial sense you'd regard me as a poseur, and cut me out. Why, I've saved nearly ten thousand dollars a year since I came to Pont Aven! I can lay my hands tomorrow on a hundred thousand, and still have enough left to keep Yvonne in pretty good shape.
"Now I'm not making any bargain with you. That isn't our way. But if I am given a free hand with Raymond, I'll settle his hash in double quick time. Swine of his variety are always blackmailers. Very well! I'll pay his price. He must clear out, bag and baggage, giving me the promise of his silence, over and above an acknowledgment that he obtained the money by threatening to expose Mrs. Carmac. Don't imagine he won't go! I'll make him! It's rather rotten even to talk of using violence to a fellow with a broken arm; but he must be got rid of, and I'll frighten him into a deal—see if I don't!"