Again the other flashed his eyes up.
"I did not!" he shouted, hammering with his hand. "The first words I ever spoke to her in the drawing-room at Merton were to tell her who I was. That night she told Pitt over his port. And Pitt told her—but there!—I needn't go into that…. And when she asked me what brought me to Merton, I answered truthfully—'Love of adventure and the fairest face in Europe.'"
The Parson leaned out.
"I understand you now. You take advantage of that face of yours; you worm yourself into the confidence of a woman, a noble woman; and you—"
The Gentleman blazed appalling eyes up at him.
"And you have not seen my Ireland suffer!"
The Parson quailed before the white blast of the other's anger. It was as though a hail of lightnings had struck him.
"His Ireland! ass!" was the only retort he could think of.
"Nelson then let us put aside," continued the other, cold again. "There remain—you and the despatches. I want the despatches. You want yourselves. Shall we exchange?"
"No, we shan't," snapped the Parson.