“Rubbish, my dear boy.  It was not his paper, but Donovan Brown’s.”

“I doubt it.  Most likely he talked Brown into signing it just as he talked us.  I tell you his ways are all crooked, like his ideas.  Did you hear how he lied about Miss Lindsay?”

“Oh, you were mistaken about that.  He does not care two straws for her or for anyone.”

“Well, if you are satisfied, I am not.  You would not be in such high spirits over it if you had taken as little wine as I.”

“Pshaw! you’re too ridiculous.  It was capital wine.  Do you mean to say I am drunk?”

“No.  But you would not have signed if you had not taken that second goblet.  If you had not forced me—­I could not get out of it after you set the example—­I would have seen him d—­d sooner than have had anything to do with his petition.”

“I don’t see what harm can come of it,” said Sir Charles, braving out some secret disquietude.

“I will never go into his house again,” said Erskine moodily.  “We were just like two flies in a spider’s web.”

Meanwhile, Trefusis was fulfilling his promise to write to Donovan Brown.

“Sallust’s House.

“Dear Brown:  I have spent the forenoon angling for a couple of very young fish, and have landed them with more trouble than they are worth.  One has gaudy scales:  he is a baronet, and an amateur artist, save the mark.  All my arguments and my little museum of photographs were lost on him; but when I mentioned your name, and promised him an introduction to you, he gorged the bait greedily.  He was half drunk when he signed; and I should not have let him touch the paper if I had not convinced myself beforehand that he means well, and that my wine had only freed his natural generosity from his conventional cowardice and prejudice.  We must get his name published in as many journals as possible as a signatory to the great petition; it will draw on others as your name drew him.  The second novice, Chichester Erskine, is a young poet.  He will not be of much use to us, though he is a devoted champion of liberty in blank verse, and dedicates his works to Mazzini, etc.  He signed reluctantly.  All this hesitation is the uncertainty that comes of ignorance; they have not found out the truth for themselves, and are afraid to trust me, matters having come to the pass at which no man dares trust his fellow.

“I have met a pretty young lady here who might serve you as a model for Hypatia.  She is crammed with all the prejudices of the peerage, but I am effecting a cure.  I have set my heart on marrying her to Erskine, who, thinking that I am making love to her on my own account, is jealous.  The weather is pleasant here, and I am having a merry life of it, but I find myself too idle.  Etc., etc., etc.”

CHAPTER XVI

One sunny forenoon, as Agatha sat reading on the doorstep of the conservatory, the shadow of her parasol deepened, and she, looking up for something denser than the silk of it, saw Trefusis.