She did the fatal thing; she answered "Yes."

"Ellerdine also says," Admaston continued, "that he and Lady Attwill stayed here last night?"

The ex-diplomatist, who, though he was a perfect fool, was also a thorough gentleman, flushed up and spoke in a voice from which all the fear and bleating noise had gone.

"Of course we did, Admaston," he barked. "Why the devil--don't you believe us?"

But it was of no use; the resolute, ice-cold voice went on.

"And were you all at supper at midnight?"

Peggy broke in. "Why do you ask?" she said--and if ever there was pain and yearning in a human voice it was in hers at that moment.

"Because Collingwood told me that you were," Admaston answered, "and Ellerdine says he didn't have any supper. Lady Attwill corroborates Ellerdine's statement."

"Then why ask me? Don't you believe Colling?" Peggy said with a wail of despair.

"No, I don't," Admaston said shortly.

Collingwood drummed upon the carpet with his left foot.

"Admaston!" he said.

Admaston turned round to him, and his face became, for the first time, suffused with blood.

The quiet grey eyes blazed with anger; the big, capable face was transformed into a single accusation. The voice, at last, was directly accusing. It was wonderful in its pain, its suppressed horror, its certain purpose.

"I don't believe a single word I have heard since I have come into this room," he said.

Lord Ellerdine took a step towards the Minister. "By G.o.d! Admaston," he said.

Lady Attwill ran up to Lord Ellerdine and caught him by the arm.

"d.i.c.ky, keep quiet," she said in a frightened but very decisive voice.

"You have lied--you lied to me on the telephone last night."

Collingwood glared at him.

"Telephone!" Lord Ellerdine said, also turning to Collingwood. "Did Admaston speak to you last night--on the telephone?"

"Yes," Collingwood answered.

The diplomatist was genuinely distressed. "My dear fellow," he said, "why _didn't_ you tell us?"

"Would that have saved you from saying that you all got on to the wrong train? Collingwood lied to me. You have lied to me. Lady Attwill--well--I beg your pardon...."

Collingwood took two steps towards Peggy.

"Why should you come catechising us?" he said to Admaston, and then he stepped up to him.

The two men stood in front of each other. Admaston, with a white fire of enragement in his face, still preserved his absolute calm of poise. His hands were clasped behind his back, his whole forceful personality seemed whetted for the aggression of the other.

Collingwood, on the other hand, was panther-like and alert. He almost crouched to spring at the other. He was a little younger, infinitely more _debonnaire_--probably not really so physically powerful, but at least lithe, brave, and ready for anything.

The two men stood there for a moment, when Peggy ran between them. "Oh!

don't!" she cried, spreading out her arms--in front of Collingwood. She seemed to fear her husband's heavy and certain onslaught.

She protected Collingwood, not George Admaston. Doubtless her action showed her knowledge of the stronger man, her wish to protect the weaker from his attack. But it was certainly most unfortunate.

"Go!" she cried. "Please go!" And then, turning rapidly to Lord Ellerdine, "d.i.c.ky, take Alice away."

Lord Ellerdine was trembling exceedingly. He was not trembling from any physical fear. He would have joined in the row with perfect happiness.

It would have suited him very well. He knew that he had cut a sorry figure on this occasion--and he was not accustomed to cutting sorry figures. He was not a clever man; n.o.body knew it better than himself.

But he had always considered himself to be an honourable one.

Lady Attwill seemed perfectly composed. Her face did not alter in expression at all, but she caught hold of her friend by the arm and led him out of the room.

The last thing that was heard as the two departed was the plaintive voice of the ex-diplomatist: "I knew it--I knew it."

Admaston waited until the door was closed, and then he turned to Collingwood. "Why don't you go?" he said.

"What are you going to do?" Collingwood asked, facing him.

The two men were white with pa.s.sion. "What the devil has that got to do with you?" Admaston said.

"A great deal. If you loved your wife as I love her you would understand what it has to do with me."

"I loved her--and trusted her implicitly," Admaston answered, and even in his pa.s.sion his wife could detect a note of sorrow.

"Your presence here looks like it," Collingwood said quickly. "Why, how did you know she was here unless you had her watched? Loved and trusted her! Good G.o.d! man, you never knew she existed until another man wanted her!"

"You admit that you wanted her!" Admaston snarled out.

"Yes," the other answered, standing well up; "and much good may the admission do you. I wanted her, and I fought with all the weapons I dared employ, and I have failed. What fight have you made for her? It was her own purity that kept her sweet. It was that purity that I wanted, but I have lost her." He made a pa.s.sionate gesture with his hands which showed how deeply he was moved--a gesture quite unlike the ordinary English habit.

"If you have any instincts of a gentleman, you have won," Admaston answered.

"What do you mean?"

Peggy, who stood there trembling, gave a wail of despair.

"George, you cannot mean----"

Admaston took no notice of her.

"Your methods have not been over nice," he said with biting scorn: "to betray your friend--to seduce his wife."