"He has divulged the Formula of the Fleets!"
"Sydney!" Brand rose overthrowing his chair, then withholding himself by main force, sat heavily upon the desk. "Go on," he said hoarsely, "these statements need to be proved."
"Time enough for that," Lord Sydney flung himself beside Brand's knees upon the desk, and buried his face in his arms. "I've lived in a dream world," he said in bitterness, "a world which I built for myself, where one's father could be respected, one's mother honoured. All things were as they should be; one could play the game——" He looked up, and his eyes were reddened. "I was a boy in that fool's paradise—but now, ah, well," he threw his head back, looking out at Brand with half-closed eyes, "I suppose I've got to be a man." Then he told Brand of the Emperor's visit to Lord Ulster, and how he had overheard what passed between them.
"Have you proof?" asked the American.
"I realized," said Sydney, "that I must have proof. I watched my father's face from day to day, and when he returned to town, I went with him. For once he was glad of my company, while with treason upon treason he bought the papers which Russia held against him. By his face I knew when the Government consented to the Treaty, when they agreed to the Russian marriage, when he betrayed the Formula. He had earned the papers then. I don't think he ever slept until last night, until he had paid the price. I was alone with him last night when the Emperor's messenger came. We had finished dinner, the long, dull dinner, the servants cleared out, and Ulster had his wine. The messenger was shown in, bearing a despatch box, and I did the honours, while Ulster unlocked the thing. I saw him take out a sealed package and a letter which he tried to conceal from me. The messenger drank our health, and Ulster escorted him to the door. I had time to slip a drug into Ulster's wine.
"Yes, he slept almost before he had read the Emperor's letter. It was a queer letter. Once a month hereafter His Grace would receive a messenger and to him display this package with unbroken seals—on pain of instant vengeance. A little of that treatment would tame any Chancellor. The sense of being watched, the horror lest the package miscarry, the fear ever with him, the curse that must be borne in silence year by year, then death and exposure. It would have driven him stark staring mad! I have relieved my father of that curse, his spies are chasing me to Constantinople. Here is the package—the proof of what I have said, and you shall break the seals."
Brand opened the Russian papers, the transactions between Ulster and Prince Ali, which page by page he examined. He filled a briar pipe, lighted, and smoked it through before he spoke.
"I think," he said at last, "that this is a strong chain of evidence, but only in converging evidence is there proof. There is ground here for a charge against the Duke, not for his conviction; and all his friends would rally to his defence, making him stronger than ever. The value of these papers is his evident fear. Now as to the secret treaty."
Lord Sydney produced the Draft, which the master read.
"There is ground here for an attack upon the Government. And as to the Formula?"