"I do
not blame you so much, because I believe that this viper poisoned your
mind. You might have thought that the tale was true. It is not true; it
was a lie. Beatrice, who now is dead, came into my room in her sleep,
and was carried from it as she came. And you, her father, allowed this
villain and your daughter to use her distress against her; you allowed
him to make a lever of it, with which to force her into a marriage that
she loathed. Yes, cover up your face--you may well do so. Do your worst,
one and all of you, but remember that this time you have to deal with a
man who can and will strike back, not a poor friendless girl."
"Before Heaven, it was not my fault, Mr. Bingham," gasped the old man.
"I am innocent of it. That Judas-woman Elizabeth betrayed her sister
because she wanted to marry him herself," and he pointed to the Heap
upon the floor. "She thought that it would prejudice him against
Beatrice, and he--he believed that she was attached to you, and tried to
work upon her attachment."
"So," said Geoffrey, "now we have it all. And you, sir, stood by and
saw this done.
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