"Don't attempt," said the other in a fury, "to work off your oratory on me. I am going to Washington to expose your intrigues against a gentleman. What! am I to tremble at your frown----?"
"Rot, man! Who asked you to tremble? I saved your boy from Livingstone, and I shall save you from yourself, even if I have to put you in an asylum for the harmless insane. Don't you believe that Livingstone is the patron of Sister Claire? that he is indirectly responsible for that scandal?"
"I never did, and I never shall," with vehemence. "You are one of those that can prove anything----"
"If you were sure of his responsibility, would you go to Washington?"
"Haven't I the evidence of my own senses? Were not all Livingstone's friends on the committee which exposed Sister Claire?"
"Because we insisted on that or a public trial, and they came with sour stomachs," said Arthur, glad that he had begun to discuss the point. "Would you go to Washington if you were sure he backed the woman?"
"Enough, young man. I'm off for the train. Here, Mary, my satchel----"
Two strong bands were laid on his shoulders, he was pushed back into his chair, and the face which glowered on him after this astonishing violence for the moment stilled his rage and astonishment.
"Would you go to Washington if you were sure Livingstone backed Sister Claire?" came the relentless question.
"Not a word," said his master, "not a cry. Just answer that question. Do you wish to be made sure of this man's atrocious guilt and your own folly?"
"I want to know what is the meaning of this," Everard sputtered, "this violence? In my own house, in broad day, like a burglar."
Alarm began to steal over Everard, who was by no means a brave man. Had Arthur Dillon, always a strange fellow, gone mad? Or was this scene a hint of murder? The desperate societies to which Dillon was said to belong often indulged in violence. It had never occurred to him before that these secret forces must be fighting Livingstone through Dillon. They would never permit him to use his influence at Washington in the Minister's behalf. Dreadful! He must dissemble.
"If you can make me sure, I am willing," he said meekly.
"Read that, then," and Arthur placed his winning card, as he thought, in his hands; the private confession of Sister Claire as to the persons who had assisted her in her outrageous schemes; and the chief, of course, was Livingstone. Everard read it with contempt.