Bertram does not reply.
“He states that you had repeatedly wanted him to place explosives in public buildings, and that you had promised him the run of the cellars of Buckingham Palace, if he would throw a hand grenade into the royal carriage as the Queen drives from Paddington Station next Monday.”
Bertram smiles faintly.
“Are you sure that these vivid romances are not composed in Scotland Yard?”
Sir Henry is thoroughly annoyed.
“No, sir. Scotland Yard has too many real tragedies to deal with to have time or patience to compose mock melodramas. The man Hopper said this, and much more, inculpating you as an anarchist. All this might have passed as a drunken ranter’s ravings, but unfortunately there were your published opinions in that organ of yours, the Age to Come. The magistrate, Mr. Adeane, being acquainted with these, thought the matter serious enough to communicate with me, whilst he committed the fellow for seven days. Mr. Adeane was justly of opinion that if you will incite persons to violent and nefarious acts, your social rank and intellectual culture ought not to save you from punishment.”
“Certainly they ought not.”
“Then you do not admit holding such opinions?”
“No; I am altogether opposed to force; to force of any kind.”
“Then your protégé lied?”