"Will you consent?" he said.
She let fall her father's hand and stood up. She and Van Ness were a little apart from the others, so that his words were heard only by herself. There was absolute silence in the room, except for the breathing of the dying man.
Van Ness stooped closer to her: she could feel his warm clammy breath on her cheek. "You are very dear to me." Seeing that she shuddered, he changed his mode of attack to direct assault: "If you marry me you will restore the property—restore, you understand?—to the children to whom it belongs."
"Jenny," moaned her father, "are you ready? I cannot die in peace until this is done."
The clergyman took pity on the girl: something in her set, deep-lined face alarmed him: "Is there any reason why you do not wish to gratify your father's last wish?"
She did not answer. There was no reason but her hopeless passion for another man, whose wife she could never be. Yet it seemed to her that God was bidding her to be true to that true love at whatever cost.
"I infer," said the little man, turning to Van Ness, "that the marriage was arranged before, and is only hastened now by"—glancing at the captain—"circumstances."
"Yes, yes! Precisely!" suavely. "You may trust me. You may have heard my name before—Pliny Van Ness."
Mr. Lampret bowed deferentially: "The name is well known. Our church has reason—grateful," he murmured.—"My dear Miss Swendon, this is a hard trial—hard. A young girl would fain give herself away with joy and rejoicing. But as your father will not depart in peace, I see no reason why the ceremony should not immediately take place."
"Jane! Jane!" cried the captain shrilly, "why do you delay?"