e, but whilst Diana was
fluttered with excitement, Ruth was calm and cool, and it was she who
spoke in answer to the Duke's invitation. The burden of her speech was
a clear, succinct recitation--in which she spared neither Wilding
nor herself--of how the letter came to have remained in her hands and
silence to have been preserved regarding it. Albemarle heard her very
patiently.

"If what you say is true, mistress," said he, "and God forbid that
I should be so ungallant as to throw doubt upon a lady's word, it
certainly explains--although most strangely--how the letter was not
brought to us at once by your brother and his friend Sir Rowland. You
are prepared to swear that this letter was intended for Mr. Wilding?"

"I am prepared to swear it," she replied.

"This is very serious," said the Duke.

"Very serious," assented Sir Edward Phelips.

Albemarle, a little flustered, turned to his colleagues. "What do you
say to this? Were it perhaps well to order Mr. Wilding's apprehension,
and to have him brought hither?"

"It were to give yourselves useless trouble, gentlemen," said Trenchard,
with so much assurance that it was plain Albemarle hesitated.

"Beware of Mr. Trenchard, Your Grace," cried Ruth. "He is Mr. Wilding's
friend, and if there is a plot he is sure to be in it."

Albemarle, startled, looked at Trenchard. Had the accusation come from
either of the men the Duke would have silenced him and abused him;
but coming from a woman, and so comely a woman, it seemed to His Grace
worthy at least of consideration. But nimble Mr. Trenchard was easily
master of the situation.

"Which, of course," he answered, with fine sarcasm, "is the reason why
I have been at work for the past four-and-twenty hours to lay proofs of
this plot before Your Grace."

Albemarle was ashamed of his momentary hesitation.

"For the rest," said Trenchard, "it is perfectly true that I am
Mr. Wilding's friend. But the lady is even more intimately connected
with him. It happens that she is his wife."

"His... his wife!" gasped the Duke, whilst Phelips chuckled, and Colonel
Luttrell's face grew dark.

Trenchard's wicked smile flickered upon his mobile features. "There are
rumours current of court paid her by Sir Rowland, there. Who knows?" he
questioned most suggestively, arching his brows and tightening his lips.
"Wives are strange kittle-kattle, and husbands have been known before to
grow inconvenient. Upon reflection, Your Grace w