As I continued silent, steeling myself to endure, and saying to myself that disgrace was not dishonour, Sir Giles again rose, and turned to leave the room. Evidently he was now satisfied that I was unworthy of confidence.
‘One moment, if you please, Sir Giles,’ I said. ‘It is plain to me there is some mystery about this affair, and it does not seem as if I should be able to clear it up. The time may come, however, when I can. I did wrong, I see now, in attempting to right myself, instead of representing my case to you. But that does not alter the fact that the sword was and is mine, however appearances may be to the contrary. In the mean time, I restore you the scabbard, and as soon as I reach home, I shall send my man with the disputed weapon.’
‘It will be your better way,’ he said, as he took the sheath from my hand.
Without another word, he left the room. Mrs Wilson also retired. Brotherton alone remained. I took no further notice of him, but followed Sir Giles through the armoury. He came after me, step for step, at a little distance, and as I stepped out into the gallery, said, in a tone of insulting politeness:
‘You will send the sword as soon as may be quite convenient, Mr Cumbermede? Or shall I send and fetch it?’
I turned and faced him in the dim light which came up from the hall.
‘Mr Brotherton, if you knew that book and those weapons as early as you have just said, you cannot help knowing that at that time the sword was not there.’
‘I decline to re-open the question,’ he said.
A fierce word leaped to my lips, but repressing it I turned away once more, and walked slowly down the stair, across the hall, and out of the house.