could..." Wilding began, when Grey again interrupted
him.

"As little as a man could," he answered. "Were His Grace not the most
foolishly clement prince in Christendom, a halter would be your reward
for the fine things you have done in London."

Mr. Wilding stiffened visibly, his long white face grew set, and his
slanting eyes looked wicked. He was not a man readily moved to anger,
but to be greeted in such words as these by one who constituted himself
the mouthpiece of him for whom Wilding had incurred ruin was more than
he could bear with equanimity; that the risks to which he had exposed
himself in London--where, indeed, he had been in almost hourly
expectation of arrest and such short shrift as poor Disney had--should
be acknowledged in such terms as these, was something that turned him
almost sick with disgust. To what manner of men had he leagued himself?
He looked Grey steadily between the eyes.

"I mind me of an occasion on which such a charge of foolish clemency
might, indeed--and with greater justice--have been levelled against His
Majesty," said he and his calm was almost terrible.

His lordship grew pale at the obvious allusion to Monmouth's mild
treatment of him for his cowardice at Bridport, and his eyes were as
baleful as Wilding's own at that moment. But before he could speak,
Monmouth had already answered Mr. Wilding.

"You are wanting in respect to us, sir," he admonished him.

Mr. Wilding bowed to the rebuke in a submission that seemed ironical.
The blood mounted slowly to Monmouth's cheeks.

"Perhaps," put in Wade, who was anxious for peace, "Mr. Wilding has some
explanation to offer us of his failure."

His failure! They took too much for granted. Stitched in the lining of
his boot was the letter from the Secretary of State. To have achieved
that was surely to have achieved something.

"I thank you, sir, for supposing it," answered Wilding, his voice hard
with self-restraint; "I have indeed an explanation."

"We will hear it," said Monmouth condescendingly, and Grey sneered,
thrusting out his bloated lips.

"I have to offer the explanation that Your Majesty is served in London
by cowards; self-sufficient and self-important cowards who have hindered
me in my task instead of helping me. I refer particularly to Colonel
Danvers."

Grey interrupted him. "You have a rare effrontery, sir--aye, by God! Do
you dare call Danvers a coward?"

"It is not I who so call him; but the facts. Colone