-marshal, investigating now,
were to come upon the real facts?"

"It is impossible that sufficient should be discovered to convict you."

"How can you be sure of that? And if it were possible, if it came to
pass, what then would be my position? You see, Ned! I must accept the
punishment I have incurred lest a worse overtake me--to put it at its
lowest. I must voluntarily go forward and denounce myself before another
denounces me. It is the only way to save some rag of honour."

There was a tap at the door, and Mullins came to announce that Lord
Wellington was asking to see Sir Terence.

"He is waiting in the study, Sir Terence."

"Tell his lordship I will be with him at once."

Mullins departed, and Sir Terence prepared to follow. Gently he
disengaged himself from the arms her ladyship now flung about him.

"Courage, my dear," he said. "Wellington may show me more mercy than I
deserve."

"You are going to tell him?" she questioned brokenly.

"Of course, sweetheart. What else can I do? And since you and Tremayne
find it in your hearts to forgive me, nothing else matters very much."
He kissed her tenderly and put her from him. He looked at Sylvia
standing beside her and at Tremayne beyond the table. "Comfort her," he
implored them, and, turning, went out quickly.

Awaiting him in the study he found not only Lord Wellington, but Colonel
Grant, and by the cold gravity of both their faces he had an inspiration
that in some mysterious way the whole hideous truth was already known to
them.

The slight figure of his lordship in its grey frock was stiff and
erect, his booted leg firmly planted, his hands behind him clutching his
riding-crop and cocked hat. His face was set and his voice as he greeted
O'Moy sharp and staccato.

"Ah, O'Moy, there are one or two matters to be discussed before I leave
Lisbon."

"I had written to you, sir," replied O'Moy. "Perhaps you will first read
my letter." And he went to fetch it from the writing-table, where he had
left it when completed an hour earlier.

His lordship took the letter in silence, and after one piercing glance
at O'Moy broke the seal. In the background, near the window, the
tall figure of Colquhoun Grant stood stiffly erect, his hawk face
inscrutable.

"Ah! Your resignation, O'Moy. But you give no reasons." Again his keen
glance stabbed into the adjutant's face. "Why this?" he asked sharply.

"Because," said Sir Terence, "I prefer to tender it before it is as