“Let me pass!” he cried threateningly.
“I shall not!” Richards answered with firmness, his back to the half-closed door, while Brooker stood watching the scene, himself full of fear and dismay.
“This is a conspiracy!” Zertho exclaimed, his trembling hands clenched, his face livid.
“Listen!” Mariette cried, her cheeks flushed with excitement as she stepped boldly forward and faced him. “This is a counterplot only to combat your dastardly intrigue. The innocent shall no longer suffer for the sins of the guilty.”
“The guilty!” he echoed, with an insolent laugh. “You mean yourself!”
“I am not without blame, I admit,” she answered quickly, her flashing eyes darting him an angry look. “Nevertheless, I have to-day determined to make atonement; to end for ever this conspiracy of silence.” Then, turning to Liane, who was standing whitefaced and aghast, she said, “First, before I speak, it will be necessary for you to make confession. Explain to George of what nature is this bond which holds you to yonder man.”
“No, I—I cannot,” she protested, covering her face with her hands.
“But it is necessary,” she urged. “Speak! Fear nothing. Then the truth shall be made known.”
The slim, fair-faced girl stood with bent head, panting and irresolute, while all waited for the words to fall from her dry, white lips. At last, with eyes downcast, she summoned courage, and in a low, hoarse voice said,—
“Zertho compelled me to accept him because—because he can prove that my father murdered Charles Holroyde.”