“Well?” exclaimed his Lordship, as determined as myself upon seeking a solution of the problem. “Now that you admit these mysterious meetings with Her Highness, perhaps you will explain their object.”
“I admit nothing,” he answered in anger, knitting his brows. “Neither have I anything to explain.”
“See!” the Earl said, drawing Ella’s photograph from the envelope. “Perhaps you will recognise this picture?” and his bony hand trembled with suppressed excitement as he placed it before him.
At sight of it my wife’s strange friend drew a long breath. He was white to the lips. Never before had I witnessed such a complete change in any man in so short a period, and especially curious, it seemed, when I reflected that he had been charged with no very serious crime.
“You may allege whatever it may please you,” he said at last, with affected sarcasm. “But a woman’s honour is safe in my hands.”
“My wife’s honour!” I cried, with fierce indignation, walking towards him threateningly. I could no longer stand by in silence when I recollected what Ella had said about being compelled to act according to the will of another. She had, no doubt, been under the thrall of this overdressed dandy. “Now that we have met,” I exclaimed, “you shall explain to me, her husband.”
With a quick movement he strode forward as if to escape us, but in an instant I had gripped him by the shoulder with fierce determination, whole the Earl himself, apprehending his intention, placed his back against the door.
“Speak!” I cried wildly, shaking him in my anger. “You shall tell us the true nature of the secret between you and my wife, and prove your statement to our satisfaction, or, by heaven, I’ll thrash you as a cunning, cowardly cur!”