“You know?” she gasped.
“Senator Barclay was forced to confide in me.”
“Oh, my God!”
The woman reeled as if about to faint, and Nick helped her to a chair, saying quickly:
“Do not be alarmed. Nothing confided to me, Lady Deland, ever goes farther. I know all of the circumstances and appreciate your position. I hope to accomplish all that is necessary to set you right. I really expect to do so, in fact, so try to be calm and give me your assistance. Both are imperative to what I have in view.”
Nick’s encouraging words were not without effect upon her. Lady Deland drew up in her chair, composing herself with an effort and replying gratefully:
“Thank you, thank you, Mr. Carter; but, oh, this is terrible. How could I have done such a thing? Tell me the worst. Let me know the worst.”
Nick then informed her as briefly as possible of the strange combination of circumstances resulting in the loss of the fateful document and her letter relating to it, adding, with convincing earnestness:
“Senator Barclay is in no sense to blame for the misfortune. He thought the safest place for the document during the single night he was to retain it was in the pocket of the coat in his own room.”
“Oh, I do not blame him, Mr. Carter,” said Lady Deland, who now had nerved herself to meet the trying situation. “Senator Barclay is a very dear friend, and a man in whom I have absolute confidence. Otherwise I never could have taken such a step, which I truly felt would be the best for all concerned.”