has nothing to
do with the case. Captain Tremayne has been arrested for killing Count
Samoval in a duel. A duel may be a violation of the law as recently
enacted by Lord Wellington, but it is not an offence against honour; and
to say that a man cannot have fought a duel because a man is incapable
of anything base or treacherous or sly is just to say a very foolish and
meaningless thing."

"Oh, quite so," the adjutant, admitted. "But if Tremayne denies having
fought, if he shelters himself behind a falsehood, and says that he has
not killed Samoval, then I think the statement assumes some meaning."

"Does Captain Tremayne say that?" she asked him sharply.

"It is what I understood him to say last night when I ordered him under
arrest."

"Then," said Sylvia, with full conviction, "Captain Tremayne did not do
it."

"Perhaps he didn't," Sir Terence admitted. "The court will no doubt
discover the truth. The truth, you know, must prevail," and he looked at
his wife again, marking the fresh signs of agitation she betrayed.

Mullins coming to set fresh covers, the conversation was allowed to
lapse. Nor was it ever resumed, for at that moment, with no other
announcement save such as was afforded by his quick step and the
click-click of his spurs, a short, slight man entered the quadrangle
from the doorway of the official wing.

The adjutant, turning to look, caught his breath suddenly in an
exclamation of astonishment.

"Lord Wellington!" he cried, and was immediately on his feet.

At the exclamation the new-comer checked and turned. He wore a plain
grey undress frock and white stock, buckskin breeches and lacquered
boots, and he carried a riding-crop tucked under his left arm. His
features were bold and sternly handsome; his fine eyes singularly
piercing and keen in their glance; and the sweep of those eyes now took
in not merely the adjutant, but the spread table and the ladies seated
before it. He halted a moment, then advanced quickly, swept his cocked
hat from a brown head that was but very slightly touched with grey, and
bowed with a mixture of stiffness and courtliness to the ladies.

"Since I have intruded so unwittingly, I had best remain to make my
apologies," he said. "I was on my way to your residential quarters,
O'Moy, not imagining that I should break in upon your privacy in this
fashion."

O'Moy with a great deference made haste to reassure him on the score of
the intrusion, whilst the ladies themsel