"Well?" asked Dacent Smith, raising his head and still sitting with poised pen at his desk.
"I was right, sir, in regard to Lady Rachel Marvin. The information that sunk the Malta was conveyed by her to Mrs. Beecher Monmouth two days ago."
"You don't mean she intentionally conveyed it?" exclaimed Dacent Smith, rising and looking at John in amazement.
"Oh no, sir, not at all; she conveyed it with no intention to do harm, and only out of an inveterate habit of gossip."
Dacent Smith drew his brows together. His expression was more stern in that moment than John had ever seen it.
"A damnable habit of gossiping," he observed forcibly. "Well, what have you done, Treves?"
"I have brought the lady with me, sir, thinking you would wish to act at once in regard to her."
Dacent Smith nodded in approbation.
"Send her in to me, Treves, and wait outside."
John went out of the room, and Dacent Smith moved to the mantelshelf and looked for a moment at the photograph of a girl of eighteen, a girl who looked scarcely more than a child. He was still at the hearth when Lady Rachel was ushered into the room by John, who closed the door and left the two together. What took place between Dacent Smith and the woman whose foolish vanity had sunk the Malta John did not know, but he was able to guess pretty well, for twenty minutes later Dacent Smith opened the door and summoned him into the room.