"I could not rest," said Everingham impulsively, "until——"
"Until you had proclaimed it to the entire Court in general, and to His Grace of Wessex in particular, that you had a secret understanding with his political rival, the Spanish ambassador," rejoined His Eminence drily.
"An interview . . ."
"Have you ever honoured me thus before, my lord?—you or any of your friends?"
"No . . . perhaps not . . . I only requested a brief tête-à-tête. . . ."
"And had I refused that dangerous tête-à-tête, what would you have done?"
"Demanded it," replied Everingham hotly. "I must know what has happened, and what you intend to do."
His Eminence threw a quick look at the young man, a look half of pity, half of contempt. For a moment it seemed as if an angry retort hovered upon his lips. But he merely shrugged his shoulders and said blandly—
"You are very expert at the game of chess, my lord, so they tell me."
"I have played it a great many times," rejoined Everingham, a little astonished at the sudden transition.