Wharton, who had stepped aside, knit his brows and flashed his quizzing-glass—through sheer force of habit—upon Lord Rotherby. Then:
“You'll pardon me, Harry,” said he, “but you'll see, I hope, that the question is not impertinent; that I put it to the end that we may clearly know with whom we have to deal and what consideration to extend him, what credit to attach to the communication he is to make us touching my lord here. Under what circumstances did you become acquainted with Mr. Caryll?”
“I have known him these twelve years,” answered Collis promptly; “so has Stapleton, so has Gascoigne, so have a dozen other gentlemen who could be produced, and who, like ourselves, were at Oxford with him. For myself and Stapleton, I can say that our acquaintance—indeed, I should say our friendship—with Mr. Caryll has been continuous since then, and that we have visited him on several occasions at his estate of Maligny in Normandy. That he habitually inhabits the country of his birth is the reason why Mr. Caryll has not hitherto had the advantage of your grace's acquaintance. Need I say more to efface the false statement made by my Lord Rotherby?”
“False? Do you dare give me the lie, sir?” roared Rotherby.
But the duke soothed him. Under his profligate exterior his Grace of Wharton concealed—indeed, wasted—a deal of shrewdness, ability and inherent strength. “One thing at a time, my lord,” said the president of the Bold Bucks. “Let us attend to the matter of Mr. Caryll.”
“Dons and the devil! Does your grace take sides with him?”
“I take no sides. But I owe it to myself—we all owe it to ourselves—that this matter should be cleared.”
Rotherby leered at him, his lip trembling with anger. “Does the president of the Bold Bucks pretend to administrate a court of honor?” he sneered heavily.
“Your lordship will gain little by this,” Wharton admonished him, so coldly that Rotherby belatedly came to some portion of his senses again. The duke turned to Caryll. “Mr. Caryll,” said he, “Sir Harry has given you very handsome credentials, which would seem to prove you worthy the hospitality of White's. You have, however, permitted yourself certain expressions concerning his lordship here, which we cannot allow to remain where you have left them. You must retract, sir, or make them good.” His gravity, and the preciseness of his diction now, sorted most oddly with his foppish airs.
Mr. Caryll closed his snuff-box with a snap. A hush fell instantly upon the company, which by now was all crowding about the little table at which sat Mr. Caryll and his three friends. A footman who entered at the moment to snuff the candles and see what the gentlemen might be requiring, was dismissed the room. When the door had closed, Mr. Caryll began to speak.