“What did you do?”

“I sat quiet.  I was afraid I might be eaten.  I relapsed into contemplation; and began to compose a volume on ’Tory Types:  Some Survivals in English Politics.  For the Information of Town Readers.’”

“Well, now you have done your duty, and cemented the alliance between the two families—­by drinking port-wine, I suppose—­what do you say to a little pleasure-trip?”

“Oh, is that all?” he said, looking up quickly.  “Is that what your note meant?”

“The fact is, Evelyn,” he said, with a trifle of embarrassment, “Natalie and her mother are in Naples, and I don’t know precisely in what circumstances.  I am a little anxious about them—­I should like to know more of their surroundings:  why, for one thing, I don’t know whether they have any money, even.  I would go over myself, Evelyn, but the truth is I cannot—­not very well.  At least I ought not to go; and I thought, if you had time—­being an old friend of Natalie’s—­you would like to see that she was all right.

“Where is Lind?” said Lord Evelyn, suddenly.

“Lind is in Italy also,” said Brand, evasively.

“Not with them?”

“Oh no.”

There was an awkward silence.  At length Brand said,

“Something very serious has happened, Evelyn:  and the question is whether, in the interests of the Society, it should not be kept a secret, if it is possible.”

“I do not wish to know any secret,” Lord Evelyn said, simply.  “I am willing to go over to Naples at once, if I can be of any service.”

“It is very kind of you; I thought you would say as much,” Brand said, still hesitating.  “But then I doubt whether you could be of much service unless you understood the whole situation of affairs.  At present only two over here know what has occurred—­Edwards and myself.  Yes, I think you must know also.  Read this letter; it came only last night.”

He unlocked a drawer, took out a letter, and gave it to Lord Evelyn, who read it slowly.  When he had finished, he put it on the table without a word.

“You understand?” Brand said, calmly.  “That means that Lind is to be punished with death for treachery.  Don’t think about me; I’ve had a narrow escape, but I have escaped—­thanks to Natalie’s courage and decision.  What I am concerned about is the effect that such a disclosure might have on the fortunes of the Society.  Would it not provoke a widespread feeling of disgust?  Wouldn’t there always be a suspicion?”

“But you yourself, Brand!” Evelyn exclaimed, in amazement.  “Why, you—­I thought you would be the first to resign, after such an escape.”