The Bishop was rapidly turning purple with suppressed indignation, but Miss Arminster scornfully indicated the location of the wine-cooler.
"Ah, thanks," said the intruder, tossing off a glass. "That's better." And he threw himself comfortably down on a divan, saying, as he did so:
"If you two have any weapons, you might as well put them on the table. Resistance is quite useless. I've plenty of men awaiting my signal on deck."
Violet, who in the light of this last remark suddenly understood the position, burst into peals of laughter.
"You'll find it's no laughing matter," cried the journalist angrily.
"I insist upon your instantly explaining your outrageous conduct," said the Bishop.
"I can do that in a very few words," replied Marchmont. "As an American representative, and authorised agent of the Daily Leader, the people's bulwark of defence, I arrest you both as Spanish spies."
"He must be mad!" ejaculated his Lordship.
"Oh, no, he isn't. He actually believes it!" cried Violet between her paroxysms of merriment. But her companion would not be convinced.
"My dear man," he said blandly, "you must be suffering under some grievous delusion. I am, as you should know, having been my guest, the Bishop of Blanford, and it is quite impossible that either I or this lady should have any connection with a political crime. I must insist that you release us at once, and go away quietly, or I shall be forced to use harsher measures."