"Treason," cut in Sir John Johnson, "was the undoing of a certain noble duke in Queen Anne's time."
"You are in error," I said, calmly.
"Was James, Duke of Ormond, not impeached by Mr. Stanhope in open Parliament?" shouted Captain McDonald.
"The House of Commons," I replied, calmly, "dishonored itself and its traditions by bringing a bill of attainder against the Duke of Ormond. That could not make him a traitor."
"He was not a traitor," broke out Walter Butler, white to the lips, "but you are!"
"A lie," I said.
With the awful hue of death stamped on his face, Walter Butler rose and faced me; and though they dragged us to our seats, shouting and exclaiming in the uproar made by falling chairs and the rush of feet, he still kept his eyes on me, shallow, yellow, depthless, terrible eyes.
"A nice scene to pass in women's presence!" roared the patroon. "Dammy, Captain Butler, the fault lies first with you! Withdraw that word 'traitor,' which touches us all!"
"He has so named himself," said Walter Butler, "Withdraw it! You foul your own nest, sir!"
A moment passed. "I withdraw it," motioned Butler, with parched lips.