"In the Registrar's office?"
"In the act of quitting the Registrar's outer office," says the burnt-out Julius in a weary voice, "in the company of Lord Beauvayse, and followed by his valet and a woman who probably were witnesses; for when the Father entered the inner office the register was lying open on the table, the entry of the marriage still wet upon the page."
"And your religious correspondent pried first," says Saxham, with savage irony, "and afterwards tattled?"
"And afterwards, seeing in the Times that Lord Beauvayse was under orders for South Africa, mentioned his accidental discovery when writing to me," says Julius Fraithorn wearily.
"That will do. When can I see the letter at your hotel? The sooner the better," says Saxham, with a curious smile, "for all purposes. Can you walk there with me now? Very well"—as Julius assents—"that is arranged, then."
"What is to be done, Saxham?" Julius stumbles up. The fires that burned in him a few moments ago are quenched; his slack hand trembles irresolutely at his beautiful weak mouth, and his deer-like eyes waver.
"I advise you," says Saxham, "to leave the doing of what is to be done to me." His own blue eyes have so strange a flare in them, and his heavy form seems so alive and instinct with threatening and dangerous possibilities, that Julius falters:
"You believe Lord Beauvayse has been a party to—has wilfully compromised Miss Mildare? You—you mean to remonstrate with him? Do you—do you think that he will listen to a remonstrance?"
"He will find it best in this instance," says Saxham dourly.
"Do not—do not be tempted to use any violence, Saxham," urges the Chaplain nervously, looking at the tense muscles of the grim, square face and the purposeful right hand that hovers near the butt of the Doctor's revolver. "For your own sake as much as for his!"