"Then whom does your lordship suspect?" inquired the Minister, with a trifling uneasiness of manner.
"I come to ask your lordship to furnish me with a clue to this mystery, and not to supply one. Were I acquainted with the real truth, I should know what course to pursue."
"And what course would that be?"
"In the next session of Parliament, I would rise in my place in the House of Lords, and proclaim to the whole nation—nay, to the entire world—the disgraceful fact, that England, the land of vaunted freedom, possesses an institution where the most sacred ties of honour are basely violated and trampled under foot."
"But suppose, my lord—I only say suppose," cried the Minister, "that her Majesty's government should consider it vitally important to English interests to be acquainted with the contents of certain letters,—suppose, I say, my lord, that such were the case,—would you then think it necessary to publish your discovery,—presuming that your lordship has made such discovery,—of that necessary proceeding on the part of her Majesty's government?"
"I am afraid that your lordship has now afforded me a clue to the mystery which has perplexed me," said the Earl of Warrington coldly.
"And as a nobleman devoted to your country, your lordship must recognise the imperious necessity of adopting such a course, at times, as the one now made known to you."
"As a nobleman devoted to my country," exclaimed the Earl of Warrington proudly, "I abhor and detest all underhand means of obtaining information which serves as a guide for diplomatic intrigue, but which in nowise affects the sterling interests of the state."
"Your lordship speaks warmly," said the Minister.
"And were I in my place in Parliament, I should speak more warmly—far more warmly still. I am, however, here in your lordship's apartment, and the laws of courtesy do not permit me to express my feelings as I elsewhere should do—and as I elsewhere shall do."