When he had heard what the clerk of St. Enodoc had to say, he answered with an order, "Round to the kitchen—bid the men arm, and go by the beach."
He returned into the hall, went to the fireplace and took down a pair of pistols, tried them that they were charged, and thrust them into his belt.
Next he went up to Judith, and laid his hand on her shoulder.
"Time presses," he said; "I have to be off. Your answer." She looked up. The board was studded with drops of water. She had not wept, these stains were not her tears, they were the sweat of anguish off her brow that had run over the board.
"Well, Judith, your answer."
"I accept."
"Unreservedly?"
"Unreservedly."
"Stay," said he. He spoke low, indistinctly articulated sentences. "Let there be no holding back between us. You shall know all. You have wondered concerning the death of Wyvill—I know you have asked questions about it. I killed him."
He paused.
"You heard of the wreckers on that vessel cast on Doom Bar. I was their leader."
Again he paused.
"You thought I had sent Jamie out with a light to mislead the vessel. You thought right. I did have her drawn to her destruction, and by your brother."
He paused again. He saw Judith's hand twitch: that was the only sign of emotion in her.
"And Lady Kinghton's jewels. I took them off her it was I who tore her ear."
Again a stillness. The sky outside shone in at the window, a lurid red. From the kitchen could be heard the voice of a man singing.
"Now you know all," said Coppinger. "I would not have you take me finally, fully, unreservedly without knowing the truth. Give me your resolve."
She slightly lifted her hands; she looked steadily into his face with a stony expression in hers.
"What is it?"
"I cannot help myself—unreservedly yours."
Then he caught her to him, pressed her to his heart
