The minister dropped his holy book in consternation.
The guests exclaimed loudly in amazement all together.
And the man most concerned, turning on his interlocutors a face of startled terror, demanded hoarsely:
“Your proofs?”
The officer of the law answered sternly:
“They will be forthcoming at the proper time, and you must come with me now, for Miss Somerville will surely not wish the ceremony to go on, now that she knows your identity as the murderer of her cousin!”
The malicious thrust seemed to quiver like a sword point in the accused man’s heart.
He started, shuddered, then looked down with burning blue eyes at the white-faced girl clinging to his arm with both trembling white hands, while she cried out to him wildly, beseechingly:
“Tell them they are mistaken, that they have accused you falsely! Tell them you never could have won my heart if you had been gran’ther’s enemy!”
But over both their minds flashed at the same moment a memory of the words she had said to him when she believed him dying: