“For what?” she asked, suddenly evincing an interest in the stamp, taking it from my hand and examining it closely.
It was on my tongue to relate to her the whole circumstances, but suddenly remembering that for the present the secret of England’s peril must be preserved if the identity of the spy were to be discovered, I refrained, and answered,—
“The man who used that seal committed one of the worst crimes of which a man can be guilty.”
“What was it; tell me?” she asked quickly. “Surely Dudley never committed any offence!”
“I am not certain,” I answered gloomily. “An enemy who would pose as a friend, as he has done, might be capable of any deceit.”
“Have I not already told you that he was not your enemy, Geoffrey?” she observed calmly.
“Ah, Ella,” I cried in disgust, “all these falsehoods only render your conduct the more despicable. You will deny next that you went down to Warnham to meet him surreptitiously.”
“To Warnham?” she cried, white to the lips.
“Yes. Do you deny it?”
“No. I—it is quite true that I met him there,” she faltered.