Albemarle, a little flustered, turned to his colleagues. "What do you say to this? Were it perhaps well to order Mr. Wilding's apprehension, and to have him brought hither?"
"It were to give yourselves useless trouble, gentlemen," said Trenchard, with so much assurance that it was plain Albemarle hesitated.
"Beware of Mr. Trenchard, Your Grace," cried Ruth. "He is Mr. Wilding's friend, and if there is a plot he is sure to be in it."
Albemarle, startled, looked at Trenchard. Had the accusation come from either of the men the Duke would have silenced him and abused him; but coming from a woman, and so comely a woman, it seemed to His Grace worthy at least of consideration. But nimble Mr. Trenchard was easily master of the situation.
"Which, of course," he answered, with fine sarcasm, "is the reason why I have been at work for the past four-and-twenty hours to lay proofs of this plot before Your Grace."
Albemarle was ashamed of his momentary hesitation.
"For the rest," said Trenchard, "it is perfectly true that I am Mr. Wilding's friend. But the lady is even more intimately connected with him. It happens that she is his wife."
"His... his wife!" gasped the Duke, whilst Phelips chuckled, and Colonel Luttrell's face grew dark.
Trenchard's wicked smile flickered upon his mobile features. "There are rumours current of court paid her by Sir Rowland, there. Who knows?" he questioned most suggestively, arching his brows and tightening his lips. "Wives are strange kittle-kattle, and husbands have been known before to grow inconvenient. Upon reflection, Your Grace will no doubt discern the precise degree of faith to attach to what this lady may tell you against Mr. Wilding."
"Oh!" exclaimed Ruth, her cheeks flaming crimson. "But this is monstrous!"
"Tis how I should myself describe it," answered Trenchard without shame.
Spurred to it thus, Ruth poured out the entire story of her marriage, and so clear and lucid was her statement that it threw upon the affair a flood of light, whilst so frank and truthful was her tone, her narrative hung so well together, that the Bench began to recover from the shock to its faith, and was again in danger of believing her. Trenchard saw this and trembled. To save Wilding for the Cause he had resorted to this desperate expedient of betraying that Cause. It must be observed, however, that he had not done so save under the conviction that betrayed it was bound to be, and that since that was inevitable the thing had better come from him--for Wilding's sake--than from Richard Westmacott. He had taken the bull by the horns in a most desperate fashion when he had determined to hoist Richard and Blake with their own petard, hoping that, after all, the harm would reach no further than the destruction of these two--a purely defensive measure. But now this girl threatened to wreck his scheme just as it was being safely steered to harbour. Suddenly he swung round, interrupting her.