“I have tried to persuade my wife to see me.  Yes; and I mean to see her before this vessel arrives in port.”

“But if the lady in question refuses to have anything to say to you?”

“We shall soon put that to the test.  I have been too ill to stir ever since I came on board, or you would have heard of me before this, Mr. Nowell.  Now that I can move about once more, I shall find a way to assert my claims, you may be sure.  But in the first place, I want to know by what right you stole my wife away from her home—­by what right you brought her on this voyage?”

“Before I answer that question, Mr.—­Mr. Holbrook, as you choose to call yourself, I’ll ask you another.  By what right do you call yourself my daughter’s husband? what evidence have you to produce to prove that you are not a bare-faced impostor?  You don’t carry your marriage-certificate about with you, I daresay; and in the absence of some kind of documentary evidence, what is to convince me that you are what you pretend to be—­my daughter’s husband?”

“The evidence of your daughter’s own senses.  Place me face to face with her; she will not deny my identity.”

“But how, if my daughter declines to see you, as she does most positively?  She has suffered enough at your hands, and is only too glad to be released from you.”

“She has suffered—­she is glad to be released!  Why, you most consummate scoundrel!” cried John Saltram, “there never was an unkind word spoken between my wife and me!  She was the best, most devoted of women; and nothing but the vilest treachery could have separated us.  I know not what villanous slander you have made her believe, or by what means you lured her away from me; but I know that a few words between us would let in the light upon your plot.  You had better make the best of a bad position, Mr. Nowell.  As my wife’s father, you know, you are pretty sure to escape.  Whatever my inclination might be, my regard for her would make me indulgent to you.  You’ll find candour avail you best in this case, depend upon it.  Your daughter has inherited a fortune, and you want to put your hand upon it altogether.  It would be wiser to moderate your desires, and be content with a fair share of the inheritance.  Your daughter is not the woman to treat you ungenerously, nor am I the man to create any hindrance to her generosity.”

“I can make no bargain with you, sir,” replied Mr. Nowell, with the same cool audacity of manner that had distinguished him throughout the interview; “nor am I prepared to admit your claim to the position you assume.  But if my daughter is your wife, she left you of her own free will, under no coercion of mine; and she must return to you in the same manner, or you must put the machinery of the law in force to compel her.  And that, I flatter myself, in a free country like America, will be rather a difficult business.”

It was hard for John Saltram to hear any man talk like this, and not be able to knock him down.  But in his present condition Marian’s husband could not have grappled a child, and he knew it.