"What has he dared to tell?" cried Gil, forgetting himself for the moment. "Men with mute lips tell nought," said the founder. "Where is Abel Churr?" "I know not," replied Gil. "Nay, but you should know," continued the founder, as Master Peasegood and Father Brisdone came panting in from an unsuccessful search. "Tom Croftly, tell what you heard. Abel Churr was an idle raff, but he was a man, and one of us here." As he spoke Mace's countenance changed, and she drew nearer to Gil. "I don't know much, master," said the foundryman slowly, "only that seven days ago I saw Abel Churr half drunken, and he was boasting that he knew a secret of the captain's there which would hang him if it was known." "He must have told you, too, Father Brisdone," said Master Peasegood, quickly. "Abel Churr did confess to me when I encountered him in the woods, Brother Peasegood, but the words uttered in confession are sacred. I cannot tell." "Not if a man's character is at stake," cried Master Peasegood. "I'll soon end this," said the founder, as Gil quietly replaced his doublet and took his sword from Sir Mark's hand. "Gil Carr, speak out like a man. Where is Abel Churr?" "I do not know," replied Gil, firmly. "Had he some secret of yours?" Gil paused for a moment, and his eyes encountered those of Mace gazing at him in a beseeching way, when a change seemed to come over him, and he replied frankly-- "Yes." "What was it?" "A secret that I wished to keep." "How did he find it out?" said the founder. "How do I know, sir? By creeping through the wood, and dogging my steps, I suppose." "When did you see him last?" said the founder. "A week ago." "Where?" "In the woods," replied Gil, who submitted to the examination as it were in obedience to Mace's eyes. "And what passed there?" said the founder. "I'll tell you," replied Gil. "I found him prying into my affairs, and I seized him." "And threatened him?" "Yes; I swore I would hang him to the yard-arm of my ship if I caught him again." "Yes--and then?" "Then I let him go." "And since then?" "I have not seen him since." Mace's eyes brightened with satisfaction, and Gil, as he stood there alone, felt recompensed for much of the past, as it seemed to him that now he was in trouble she was turning to him. "Sir Thomas Beckley must know this," cried the founder. "The suspicion is that Abel Churr has been foully dealt with, and that you, Gilbert Carr, are to blame." "And I say that whoever charges me with hurt to Abel Churr lies," cried Gil, hotly. "The scoundrel had a secret of mine in his keeping, and I did threaten him, but I let him go when I had caught him robbing me, with such a warning that I felt he would never come again."