“Gad!” cried his lordship. “Gad! 'Twas thus ye bubbled Mr. Green? Shrewd, on my soul. And you are the messenger, then?”
“I am the messenger,” answered Mr. Caryll coldly.
“And why did you not say so before?”
For the fraction of a second Mr. Caryll hesitated. Then: “Because I did not judge that the time was come,” said he.
CHAPTER VIII. TEMPTATION
His lordship ripped away the silk covering of the button with a penknife, and disembowelled it of a small packet, which consisted of a sheet of fine and very closely-folded and tightly-compressed paper. This he spread, cast an eye over, and then looked up at his companion, who was watching him with simulated indolence.
His lordship had paled a little, and there was about the lines of his mouth a look of preternatural gravity. He looked furtively towards the door, his heavy eyebrows lowering.
“I think,” he said, “that we shall be more snug in the library. Will you bear me company, Mr. Caryll?”
Mr. Caryll rose instantly. The earl folded the letter, and turned to go. His companion paused to pick up the fragments of the button and slip them into his pocket. He performed the office with a smile on his lips that was half pity, half contempt. It did not seem to him that there would be the least need to betray Lord Ostermore once his lordship was wedded to the Stuart faction. He would not fail to betray himself through some act of thoughtless stupidity such as this.