"Hallo! there's some more."
"If you hesitate," the writer continued, "consult Colonel Sapt--"
"Eh," exclaimed that gentleman, genuinely astonished. "Does she take me
for a greater fool than you?"
I waved to him to be silent.
"Ask him what woman would do most to prevent the duke from marrying his
cousin, and therefore most to prevent him becoming king? And ask if her
name begins with--A?"
I sprang to my feet. Sapt laid down his pipe.
"Antoinette de Mauban, by heaven!" I cried.
"How do you know?" asked Sapt.
I told him what I knew of the lady, and how I knew it. He nodded.
"It's so far true that she's had a great row with Michael," said he,
thoughtfully.
"If she would, she could be useful," I said.
"I believe, though, that Michael wrote that letter."
"So do I, but I mean to know for certain. I shall go, Sapt."
"No, I shall go," said he.
"You may go as far as the gate."
"I shall go to the summer-house."
"I'm hanged if you shall!"
I rose and leant my back against the mantelpiece.
"Sapt, I believe in that woman, and I shall go."
"I don't believe in any woman," said Sapt, "and you shan't go."
"I either go to the summer-house or back to England," said I.
Sapt began to know exactly how far he could lead or drive, and when he
must follow.
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