“Tell him,” said the general more gently. “Don’t be afraid.”
“Well,” began Bealby after one accumulating pause, “it was ’im told me to do it. ’E said you go in there—”
The Captain would have interrupted but the Lord Chancellor restrained him by a magnificent gesture of the hand holding the watch.
“He told you to do it!” he said. “I knew he did. Now listen! He told you practically to go in and do anything you could.”
“Yessir.” Woe took possession of Bealby. “I didn’t do any ’arm to the ole gentleman.”
“But who told you?” cried the Captain. “Who told you?”
Lord Moggeridge annihilated him with arm and eyebrows. He held Bealby fascinated by a pointing finger.
“Don’t do more than answer the questions. I have thirty seconds more. He told you to go in. He made you go in. At the earliest possible opportunity you got away?”
“I jest nipped out—”
“Enough! And now, sir, how dare you come here without even a plausible lie? How dare you after your intolerable tomfoolery at Shonts confront me again with fresh tomfoolery? How dare you drag in your gallant and venerable uncle in this last preposterous—I suppose you would call it—lark! I suppose you had prepared that little wretch with some fine story. Little you know of False Witness! At the first question, he breaks down! He does not even begin his lie. He at least knows the difference between my standards and yours. Candler! Candler!”