He is alive; he has niver been dead, only taken by t' press-gang.

And he says yo' saw it, and knew it all t' time.

Speak, was it so ?' Philip knew not what to say, whither to turn, under what refuge of words or acts to shelter.
Sylvia's influence was keeping Kinraid silent, but he was rapidly passing beyond it.
'Speak!' he cried, loosening himself from Sylvia's light grasp, and coming towards Philip, with a threatening gesture.

'Did I not bid you tell her how it was?
Did I not bid you say how I would be faithful to her, and she was to be faithful to me?
Oh! you damned scoundrel! have you kept it from her all that time, and let her think me dead, or false?
Take that!' His closed fist was up to strike the man, who hung his head with bitterest shame and miserable self-reproach; but Sylvia came swift between the blow and its victim.
'Charley, thou shan't strike him,' she said.

'He is a damned scoundrel' (this was said in the hardest, quietest tone) 'but he is my husband.' 'Oh! thou false heart!' exclaimed Kinraid, turning sharp on her.