"Now that that child has gone," said the Duke, "will you permit me to say a few words? I am," he confessed, "rather fond of hearing myself speak. Sir Harry, I would rather you left your niece out of the conversation."
"You would rather!" jeered the master of Hydeholme.
"I would rather," said the Duke politely, "if you have no objection. You see, Sir Harry, I know all about your relationship with the father of my fiancée. I know how you lured him and his money into your rotten financial quicksands, how you left him to ruin."
"That's a lie, a horrible lie," gasped Sir Harry, pale with rage.
In justice to him it may be said in passing, that he really thought that it was. The Duke diplomatically passed the comment.
"Coming nearer home," he went on, "I know that you conspired with certain individuals to rob a most worthy young nobleman—to wit myself—of his mineral wealth."
"That's another lie: by Gad, sir? if you dare print this——!"
"I did think," said the Duke carefully, "I must confess that I did think of using the material for a humorous poem, but if you would rather I didn't——"
Sir Harry Tanneur made an admirable effort to recover his temper and his lost dignity.
"If you cannot behave like a gentleman," he said, "it is useless for me to prolong this interview. To-day," he turned at the doorway, "to-day I shall take action."