To the of them all, there entered a tall gentleman in a full-bottomed , with a long, pale face, a mouth, and a pair of eyes that were keen, yet . Close upon the heels of the second secretary came Mr. Green. Humphries withdrew, and closed the door.
Mr. Templeton made her ladyship a low bow.
“Madam,” said he very gravely, “I offer your ladyship—and you, my lord—my profoundest condolence in the you have suffered, and my scarcely less profound excuses for this intrusion upon your grief.”
Mr. Templeton may or may not have reflected that the grief upon which he his intrusion was none so apparent.
“I had not ventured to do so,” he continued, “but that your lordship seemed to invite my presence.”
“Invited it, sir?” questioned Rotherby with . “I should scarcely have presumed so far as to invite it.”
“Not directly, perhaps,” returned the second secretary. His was a deep, rich voice, and he with great deliberateness, as if considering well each word before allowing it . “Not directly, perhaps; but in view of your message to Lord Carteret, his lordship has desired me to come in person to inquire into this matter for him, before farther. This fellow,” indicating Green, “brought information from you that a Jacobite—an agent of James Stuart—is being detained here, and that your lordship has a communication to make to the secretary of state.”
Rotherby bowed his . “All I desired that Mr. Green should do meanwhile,” said he, “was to a warrant for this man's arrest. My revelations would have followed that. Has he the warrant?”
“Your lordship may not be aware,” said Mr. Templeton, with an increased precision of diction, “that of late so many plots have been disclosed and have proved in the end to be no plots at all, that his lordship has resolved to proceed now with the extremest caution. For it is not held desirable by his that should be given to such matters until there can be no doubt that they are to proof. Talk of them is disturbing to the public quiet, and there is already enough, as it unfortunately happens. Therefore, it is deemed that we should make quite sure of our ground before proceeding to arrests.”
“But this plot is no plot,” cried Rotherby, with the faintest show of heat, out of patience with the other's deliberateness. “It is a very real danger, as I can prove to his lordship.”
“It is for the purpose of that fact,” resumed the second secretary, unruffled, “for the purpose of ascertaining it before taking any steps that would seem to acknowledge it, that my Lord Carteret has desired me to wait upon you—that you may place me in possession of the circumstances that have come to your knowledge.”
Rotherby's betrayed his growing . “Why, for that matter, it has come to my knowledge that a plot is being hatched by the friends of the Stuart, and that a rising is being prepared, the present moment being considered , while the people's confidence in the government is shaken by the late South Sea Company disaster.”
Mr. Templeton wagged his head gently. “That, sir—if you will permit the observation—is the preface of all the disclosures that have lately been made to us. The , sir, for his majesty's friends, has been that in no case did the subsequent matter make that preface good.”
“It is in that particular, then, that my disclosures shall differ from those others,” said Rotherby, in a tone that caused Mr. Templeton afterwards to describe him as “a damned hot fellow.”
“You have evidence?”
“Documentary evidence. A letter from the Pretender himself amongst it.”
A becoming gravity overspread Mr. Templeton's clear-cut face. “That would be indeed regrettable,” said he. It was plain that whatever the second secretary might display when the plot was disclosed to him, he would display none of that satisfaction upon which Rotherby had counted. “To whom, sir, let me ask, is this letter ?”
“To my late father,” answered his lordship.
Mr. Templeton made an , whose significance was not quite clear.
“I have discovered it since his death,” continued Rotherby. “I was but in time to it from the hands of that spy of the Pretender's, who was in the act of destroying it when I caught him. My devotion to his majesty made my course clear, sir—and I desired Mr. Green to procure a warrant for this 's arrest.”
“Sir,” said Mr. Templeton, regarding him with an eye in which was blent with , “this is very loyal in you—very loyal under the—ah—peculiar circumstances of the affair. I do not think that his majesty's government, considering to whom this letter was addressed, could have you even had you suppressed it. You have conducted yourself, my lord—if I may venture upon a criticism of your lordship's conduct—with a of the best models of ancient Rome. And I am assured that his majesty's government will not be in signifying of this very lofty of yours.”
Lord Rotherby bowed low, in acknowledgment of the compliment. Her ladyship a smile under cover of her fan. Mr. Caryll—standing in the background beside Hortensia's chair—smiled, too, and poor Hortensia, detecting his smile, sought to take comfort in it.
“My son,” interposed the countess, “is, I am sure, gratified to hear you so commend his conduct.”
Mr. Templeton bowed to her with a great politeness. “I should be a stone, ma'am, did I not signify my—ah—appreciation of it.”
“There is a little more to follow, sir,” put in Mr. Caryll, in that quiet manner of his. “I think you will find it blunt the edge of his lordship's lofty loyalty—cause it to less like the patriotism of Rome, and more like that of Israel.”
Mr. Templeton turned upon him a face of cold displeasure. He would have spoken, but that whilst he was seeking words of a becoming gravity, Rotherby him.
“Sir,” he exclaimed, “what I did, I did though my ruin must have followed. I know what this traitor has in mind. He imagines I have a bargain to make. But you must see, sir, that in no sense is it so, for, having already surrendered the facts, it is too late now to attempt to sell them. I am ready to yield up the letters that I have found. No consideration could induce me to do other; and yet, sir, I venture to hope that in return, the government will be pleased to see that I have some claim upon my country's recognition for the signal service I am her—and in rendering which I make a of my father's honor.”
“Surely, surely, sir,” murmured Mr. Templeton, but his countenance told of a enthusiasm in his lordship's Roman patriotism. “Lord Carteret, I am sure, would never permit so much—ah—devotion to his majesty to go unrewarded.”
“I only ask, sir—and I ask it for the sake of my father's name, which stands in unavoidable danger of being smirched—that no further shame be heaped upon it than that which must result from the horror with which the discovery of this plot will inspire all right-thinking subjects.”
Mr. Caryll smiled and nodded. He judged in a detached spirit—a spectator at a play—and he was forced to admit to himself that it was subtly done of his brother, and showed an in this thing, at least, of which he had never supposed him capable.
“There is, sir,” Rotherby proceeded, “the matter of my father's dealings with the South Sea Company. He is no longer alive to defend himself from the accusations—from the which has been levelled against him by our enemy, the Duke of Wharton. Therefore, it might be possible to make it appear as if his dealings were—ah—not—ah—quite such as should befit an upright gentleman. There is that, and there is this greater matter against him. Between the two, I should never again be able to look my fellow-countrymen in the face. Yet this is the more important since the safety of the kingdom is involved; whilst the other is but a personal affair, and trivial by comparison.
“I will beg, sir, that out of consideration for my disclosing this dastardly conspiracy—which I cannot do without disclosing my father's misguided share in it—I will , sir, that out of that consideration, Lord Carteret will see fit to dispose that the South Sea Company affair is allowed to be forgotten. It has already been paid for by my father with his life.”
Mr. Templeton looked at the young man before him with eyes of real . He was entirely duped, and in his heart he regretted that for a moment he could have doubted Rotherby's integrity of purpose.
“Sir,” he said, “I offer you my sympathy—my profoundest sympathy; and you, my lady.
“As for this South Sea Company affair, well—I am empowered by Lord Carteret to treat only of the other matter, and to issue or not a warrant for the of the person you are detaining, after I have investigated the grounds upon which his arrest is urged. Nevertheless, sir, I think I can say—indeed, I think I can promise—that in consideration of your readiness to deliver up these letters, and provided their nature is as serious as you represent, and also in consideration of this, your most signal proof of loyalty, Lord Carteret will not wish to increase the load which already you have to bear.”
“Oh, sir!” cried Rotherby in the deepest emotion, “I have no words in which to express my thanks.”
“Nor I,” put in Mr. Caryll, “words in which to express my admiration. A most excellent performance, Rotherby. I had not credited you with so much ability.”
Mr. Templeton frowned upon him again. “Ye betray a singular , sir,” said he.
“Nay, sir; not callousness. Merely the ease that springs from a conscience.”
Her ladyship glanced across at him, and audibly. “You hear the poisonous traitor, sir. He glories in a tranquil conscience, in spite of this murderous matter to which he stood committed.”
Rotherby turned aside to take the letters from the desk. He thrust them into Mr. Templeton's hands. “Here, sir, is a letter from King James to my father, and here is a letter from my father to King James. From their contents, you will gather how far advanced are matters, what devilries are being hatched here in his majesty's .”
Mr. Templeton received them, and crossed to the window that he might examine them. His countenance . Rotherby took his stand beside his mother's chair, both observing Mr. Caryll, who, in his turn, was observing Mr. Templeton, a faint smile playing round the corners of his mouth. Once they saw him stoop and whisper something in Hortensia's ear, and they caught the upward glance of her eyes, half fear, half question.
Mr. Green, by the door, stood turning his hat in his hands, watching everybody, whilst drawing no attention to himself—a matter in which much practice had made him perfect.
At last Templeton turned, folding the letters. “This is very grave, my lord,” said he, “and my Lord Carteret will no doubt desire to express in person his and his deep sense of the service you have done him. I think you may confidently expect to find him as generous as you hope.”
He pocketed the letters, and raised a hand to point at Mr. Caryll. “This man?” he inquired .
“Is a spy of King James's. He is the messenger who bore my father that letter from the Pretender, and he would no doubt have carried back the answer had my father lived.”
Mr. Templeton drew a paper from his pocket, and crossed to the desk. He sat down, and took up a . “You can prove this, of course?” he said, testing the point of his quill upon his thumb-nail.
“Abundantly,” was the ready answer. “My mother can bear witness to the fact that 'twas he brought the Pretender's letter, and there is no lack of . Enough, I think, would be afforded by the assault made by this upon Mr. Green, of which, no doubt, you are already informed, sir. His object—this proved ob............