"Now go and form your Cabinet," he muttered. "May you wake in hell!"
Borrowdean, who left the study a madman, was a sane person the moment he began to descend the stairs and found himself face to face with a tall, heavily cloaked woman. The flash of familiar jewels in her hair, something, perhaps, in the quiet stateliness of her movements, betrayed her identity to him. His heart gave a quick jump. A sickening fear stole over him. He barred the way.
"Duchess!" he exclaimed.
She waved him aside with an impatient gesture. He could see the frown gathering upon her face.
"Sir Leslie!" she replied. "Please let me pass! I want to see Mr. Mannering before any one else goes up!"
Sir Leslie drew immediately to one side.
"Pray do not let me detain you," he said, coolly. "Between ourselves, I do not think that Mannering is in a fit state to see anybody. I have not been able to get a coherent word out of him. He walks all the time backwards and forwards like a man demented."
Berenice smiled slightly.
"You are annoyed," she declared, "because you will be in opposition once more!"