It was one of his secretaries who, at Albemarle's bidding, gave Wilding the information that he craved. He listened gravely; then, before Albemarle had time to question him on the score of the name that might have been upon the enfolding wrapper of the letter, he begged that he might confer apart a moment with Mr. Trenchard.
“But Mr. Wilding,” said Colonel Luttrell, surprised not to hear the immediate denial of the imputation they had expected, “we should first like to hear...”
“By your leave, sirs,” Wilding interrupted, “I should prefer that you ask me nothing until I have consulted with Mr. Trenchard.” He saw Luttrell's frown, observed Sir Edward shift his wig to scratch his head in sheer perplexity, and caught the fore-shadowing of denial on the Duke's face. So, without giving any of them time to say him nay, he added quickly and very seriously, “I am begging this in the interests of justice. Your Grace has told me that some lingering doubt still haunts your mind upon the subject of this letter—the other charges can matter little, apart from that treasonable document. It lies within my power to resolve such doubts most clearly and finally. But I warn you, sirs, that not one word will I utter in this connection until I have had speech with Mr. Trenchard.”
There was about his mien and voice a firmness that forewarned Albemarle that to insist would be worse than idle. A slight pause followed his words, and Luttrell leaned across to whisper in His Grace's ear; from the Duke's other side Sir Edward bent his head forward till it almost touched those of his companions. Blake watched, and was most foolishly impatient.
“Your Grace will never allow this!” he cried.
“Eh?” said Albemarle, scowling at him.
“If you allow those two villains to consort together we are all undone,” the baronet protested, and ruined what chance there was of Albemarle's not consenting.
It was the one thing needed to determine Albemarle. Like the stubborn man he was, there was naught he detested so much as to have his course dictated to him. More than that, in Sir Rowland's anxiety that Wilding and Trenchard should not be allowed to confer apart, he smoked a fear on Sir Rowland's part, based upon the baronet's consciousness of his own guilt. He turned from him with a sneering smile, and without so much as consulting his associates he glanced at Wilding and waved his hand towards the door.
“Pray do as you suggest, Mr. Wilding,” said he. “But I depend upon you not to tax our patience.”
“I shall not keep Mr. Trenchard a moment longer than is necessary,” said Wilding, giving no hint of the second meaning in his words.