"I am this lady's brother, my lord," he answered, and his voice was fairly steady.

"Tiens!" said Feversham, and, smiling, he turned to Wentworth.

"Quite a family party, sir," said the captain, smiling back.

"Oh! mais tout--fait," said the General, laughing outright, and then Wilding created a diversion by leading Ruth to a chair that stood at the far end of the table, and drawing it forward for her. "Ah, yes," said Feversham airily, "let Madame sit."

"You are very good, sir," said Ruth, her voice brave and calm.

"But somewhat lacking in spontaneity," Wilding criticized, which set Wentworth staring and the Frenchman scowling.

"Shall I call the guard, my lord?" asked Wentworth crisply.

"I t'ink yes," said Feversham, and the captain gained the door, and spoke a word to one of the soldiers without.

"But, my lord," exclaimed Blake in a tone of protest, "I vow you are too ready to take this fellow's word."

"He 'as spoke so few," said Feversham.

"Do you know who he is?"

"You 'af 'eard 'im say--t'e lady's 'usband."

"Aye--but his name," cried Blake, quivering with anger. "Do you know that it is Wilding?"

The name certainly made an impression that might have flattered the man to whom it belonged. Feversham's whole manner changed; the trivial air of persiflage that he had adopted hitherto was gone on the instant, and his brow grew dark.

"T'at true?" he asked sharply. "Are you Mistaire Wildin'--Mistaire Antoine Wildin'?"

"Your lordship's most devoted servant," said Wilding suavely, and made a leg.

Wentworth in the background paused in the act of reclosing the door to stare at this gentleman whose name Albemarle had rendered so excellently well known.

"And you to dare come 'ere?" thundered Feversham, thoroughly roused by the other's airy indifference. "You to dare come 'ere--into my ver'

presence?"

Mr. Wilding smiled conciliatingly. "I came for my wife, my lord," he reminded him. "It grieves me to intrude upon your lordship at so late an hour, and indeed it was far from my intent. I had hoped to overtake Sir Rowland before he reached you."

"Nom de Dieu!" swore Feversham. "Ho! A so great effrontery!" He swung round upon Blake again. "Sare Rowlan'," he bade him angrily, "be so kind to tell me what 'appen in Breechwater--everyt'ing!"

Blake, his face purple, seemed to struggle for breath and words. Mr.

Wilding answered for him.

"Sir Rowland is so choleric, my lord," he said in his pleasant, level voice, "that perhaps the tale would come more intelligibly from me. Believe me that he has served you to the best of his ability.

Unfortunately for the success of your choice plan of murder, I had news of it at the eleventh hour, and with a party of musketeers I was able to surprise and destroy your cut-throats in Mr. Newlington's garden.

You see, my lord, I was to have been one of the victims myself, and I resented the attentions that were intended me. I had no knowledge that Sir Rowland had contrived to escape, and, frankly, it is a thing I deplore more than I can say, for had that not happened much trouble might have been saved and your lordship's rest had not been disturbed."

"But t'e woman?" cried Feversham impatiently. "How is she come into this galare?"

"It was she who warned him," Blake got out, "as already I have had the honour to inform your lordship."

"And your lordship cannot blame her for that," said Wilding. "The lady is a most loyal subject of King James; but she is also, as you observe, a dutiful wife. I will add that it was her intention to warn me only when too late for interference. Sir Rowland, as it happened, was slow in..."

"Silence!" blazed the Frenchman. "Now t'at I know who you are, t'at make a so great difference. Where is t'e guard, Wentwort'?"

"I hear them," answered the captain, and from the street came the tramp of their marching feet.

Feversham turned again to Blake. "T'e affaire 'as 'appen' so," he said, between question and a.s.sertion, summing up the situation as he understood it. "T'is rogue," and he pointed to Richard, "'ave betray your plan to 'is sister, who betray it to 'er 'usband, who save t'e Duc de Monmoot'. N'est-ce pas?"

"That is so," said Blake, and Ruth scarcely thought it worth while to add that she had heard of the plot not only from her brother, but from Blake as well. After all, Blake's att.i.tude in the matter, his action in bringing her to Feversham for punishment, and to exculpate himself, must suffice to cause any such statement of hers to be lightly received by the General.

She sat in an anguished silence, her eyes wide, her face pale, and waited for the end of this strange business. In her heart she did permit herself to think that it would be difficult to a.s.semble a group of men less worthy of respect. Choleric and vindictive Blake, foolish Feversham, stupid Wentworth, and timid Richard--even Richard did not escape the unfavourable criticism they were undergoing in her subconscious mind. Only Wilding detached in that a.s.sembly--as he had detached in another that she remembered--and stood out in sharp relief a very man, calm, intrepid, self-possessed; and if she was afraid, she was more afraid for him than for herself. This was something that, perhaps, she scarcely realized just then; but she was to realize it soon.

Feversham was speaking again, asking Blake a fresh question. "And who betray you to t'is rogue?"

"To Westmacott?" cried Blake. "He was in the plot with me. He was left to guard the rear, to see that we were not taken by surprise, and he deserted his post. Had he not done that, there had been no disaster, in spite of Mr. Wilding's intervention."

Feversham's brow was dark, his eyes glittered as they rested on the traitor.

"T'at true, sare?" he asked him.

"Not quite," put in Mr. Wilding. "Mr. Westmacott, I think, was constrained away. He did not intend..."

"Tais-toi!" blazed Feversham. "Did I interrogate you? It is for Mistaire Westercott to answer." He set a hand on the table and leaned forward towards Wilding, his face very malign. "You shall to answer for yourself, Mistaire Wildin'; I promise you you shall to answer for yourself." He turned again to Richard. "Eh, bien?" he snapped. "Will you speak?"

Richard came forward a step; he was certainly nervous, and certainly pale; but neither as pale nor as nervous as from our knowledge of Richard we might have looked to see him at that moment.

"It is in a measure true," he said. "But what Mr. Wilding has said is more exact. I was induced away. I did not dream any could know of the plan, or that my absence could cause this catastrophe."

"So you went, eh, vaurien? You t'ought t'at be to do your duty, eh? And it was you who tole your sistaire?"

"I may have told her, but not before she had the tale already from Blake."

Feversham sneered and shrugged. "Natural you will not speak true. A traitor I 'ave observe' is always liar."

Richard drew himself up; he seemed invested almost with a new dignity.

"Your lordship is pleased to account me a traitor?" he inquired.

"A dam' traitor," said his lordship, and at that moment the door opened, and a sergeant, with six men following him, stood at the salute upon the threshold. "A la bonne heure!" his lordship hailed them. "Sergean', you will arrest t'is rogue and t'is lady,"--he waved his hand from Richard to Ruth--"and you will take t'em to lock..up."

The sergeant advanced towards Richard, who drew a step away from him.

Ruth rose to her feet in agitation. Mr. Wilding interposed himself between her and the guard, his hand upon his sword.

"My lord," he cried, "do they teach no better courtesy in France?"

Feversham scowled at him, smiling darkly. "I shall talk wit' you soon, sare," said he, his words a threat.

"But, my lord..." began Richard. "I can make it very plain I am no traitor..."