Mr. Taynton got up.  He had only had one moment of preparation and he thought, at any rate, that he knew for certain what this unpleasant business must be.  Evidently Mills had given him away.  For what reason he had done so he could not guess; after his experience of yesterday it might have been from pure devilry, or again he might have feared that in desperation, Taynton would take that extreme step of prosecuting him for blackmail.  But, for that moment Taynton believed that Morris’s agitation must be caused by this, and it says much for the iron of his nerve that he did not betray himself by a tremor.

“My dear Morris,” he said, “I must ask you to pull yourself together.  You are out of your own control.  Sit down, please, and be silent for a minute.  Then tell me calmly what is the matter.”

Morris sat down as he was told, but the calmness was not conspicuous.

“Calm?” he said.  “Would you be calm in my circumstances, do you think?”

“You have not yet told me what they are,” said Mr. Taynton.

“I’ve just seen Madge Templeton,” he said.  “I met her privately by appointment.  And she told me—­she told me—­”

Master of himself though he was, Mr. Taynton had one moment of physical giddiness, so complete and sudden was the revulsion and reaction that took place in his brain.  A moment before he had known, he thought, for certain that his own utter ruin was imminent.  Now he knew that it was not that, and though he had made one wrong conjecture as to what the unpleasant business was, he did not think that his second guess was far astray.

“Take your time, Morris,” he said.  “And, my dear boy, try to calm yourself.  You say I should not be calm in your circumstances.  Perhaps I should not, but I should make an effort.  Tell me everything slowly, omitting nothing.”

This speech, combined with the authoritative personality of Mr. Taynton, had an extraordinary effect on Morris.  He sat quiet a moment or two, then spoke.

“Yes, you are quite right,” he said, “and after all I have only conjecture to go on yet, and I have been behaving as if it was proved truth.  God! if it is proved to be true, though, I’ll expose him, I’ll—­I’ll horsewhip him, I’ll murder him!”

Mr. Taynton slapped the table with his open hand.

“Now, Morris, none of these wild words,” he said.  “I will not listen to you for a moment, if you do not control yourself.”

Once again, and this time more permanently the man’s authority asserted itself.  Morris again sat silent for a time, then spoke evenly and quietly.

“Two nights ago you were dining with us,” he said, “and Madge was there.  Do you remember my asking her if I might come to see them, and she said she and her mother would be out all day?”

“Yes; I remember perfectly,” said Mr. Taynton.

“Well, yesterday afternoon I was motoring by the park, and I saw Madge sitting on the lawn.  I stopped the motor and watched.  She sat there for nearly an hour, and then Sir Richard came out of the house and they walked up and down the lawn together.”