“Proved by that woman Nodari?” she cried, with fierce indignation. Then, after a pause, she leaned towards him and said in a low, earnest voice, “You will not allow an inquiry because you fear its result, father?”
“Hush! Who told you that?” he gasped, staring at her.
“No one. It is only a logical conclusion. The captain is the victim of a wicked conspiracy, and he is suffering in silence because he knows the utter futility of appeal.”
“He has already appealed to me.”
“And you have refused him justice!” was his daughter’s quick reproachful declaration. “You are surely not unjust, father? You cannot be.”
The tall, distinguished-looking man was silent, and rising, walked up the long strip of carpet placed upon the marble floor. Then slowly he returned to her, and looking straight into her face, said—
“My hands are tied, my girl. I am powerless, I confess to you.”
“But in your heart you believe that he is innocent? Tell me the truth.”
“Yes,” he whispered in a broken voice. “I do—I do.”
She made no response. His admission was full of a poignant meaning. She saw that he was somehow fettered, held in some mysterious bondage of which she was in ignorance.