"I don't know what you are talking about," answered Paul coldly.
"Of course not. You never do when it suits your purpose. Can we believe anything from the fellow who shakes hands with a Beetle—with the enemy of Garside?" came the sneering answer.
Paul staggered back as though he had been struck. Some one had seen him shake hands with Wyndham then, and, without knowing the facts, his enemies were already putting the worst possible construction on it. Stanley had joined the group as Newall was speaking.
"If you can't believe anything I say, what's the use of asking me questions? It seems to me a waste of breath."
"Did you or did you not set those fellows on to keep me in the shed?" demanded Newall hotly.
"I'm not going to answer you," said Paul firmly.
"Then perhaps you'll answer me," said Stanley, stepping forward to Newall's side, pale to the lips.
Paul had not noticed his arrival, and did not know that he was present till he heard his voice. It stirred the old feeling of love and friendship within him, though there was little that was friendly in its tone.
"Answer you what, Stan?" asked Paul, in softer tones.
Stanley knew little of the grounds of the present dispute, but he guessed that he could not be far wrong in repeating the question that Newall had just put. So he repeated it.