"Of course," he said at last. "Isn't it obvious to any one?" And he grew rhapsodical: "How can a man be daily in her company without succumbing to her loveliness, to her matchless grace of body and of mind, without perceiving that she is incomparable, peerless, as much above other women as an angel perhaps might be above herself?"
Before his glum solemnity, and before something else that Tremayne could not suspect, Sir Terence exploded into laughter. Of the immense and joyous relief in it his secretary caught no hint; all he heard was its sheer amusement, and this galled and shamed him.
For no man cares to be laughed at for such feelings as Tremayne had been led into betraying.
"You think it something to laugh at?" he said tartly.
"Laugh, is it?" spluttered Sir Terence. "God grant I don't burst a blood-vessel."
Tremayne reddened. "When you've indulged your humour, sir," he said stiffly, "perhaps you'll consider the matter of this dispatch."
But Sir Terence laughed more uproariously than ever. He came to stand beside Tremayne, and slapped him heartily on the shoulder.
"Ye'll kill me, Ned!" he protested. "For God's sake, not so glum.
It's that makes ye ridiculous."
"I am sorry you find me ridiculous."
"Nay, then, it's glad ye ought to be. By my soul, if Sylvia tempts you, man, why the devil don't ye just succumb and have done with it?
She's handsome enough and well set up with her air of an Amazon, and she rides uncommon straight, begad! Indeed it's a broth of a girl she is in the hunting-field, the ballroom, or at the breakfast-table, although riper acquaintance may discover her not to be quite all that you imagine her at present. Let your temptation lead you then, entirely, and good luck to you, my boy."
"Didn't I tell you, O'Moy," answered the captain, mollified a little by the sympathy and good feeling peeping through the adjutant's boisterousness, "that poverty is just hell. It's my poverty that's in the way."
"And is that all? Then it's thankful you should be that Sylvia Armytage has got enough for two."
"That's just it."
"Just what?"
"The obstacle. I could marry a poor woman. But Sylvia - "
"Have you spoken to her?"
Tremayne was indignant. "How do you suppose I could?"
"It'll not have occurred to you that the lady may have feelings which having aroused you ought to be considering?"
A wry smile and a shake of the head was Tremayne only answer; and then Carruthers came in fresh from Lisbon, where he had been upon business connected with the commissariat, and to Tremayne's relief the subject was perforce abandoned.
Yet he marvelled several times that day that the hilarity he should have awakened in Sir Terence continued to cling to the adjutant, and that despite the many vexatious matters claiming attention he should preserve an irrepressible and almost boyish gaiety.
Meanwhile, however, the coming of Carruthers had brought the adjutant a moment's seriousness, and he reverted to the business of Captain Garfield. When he had mentioned the missing note, Carruthers very properly became grave. He was a short, stiffly built man with a round, good-humoured, rather florid face.
"The matter must be probed at once, sir," he ventured. "We know that we move in a tangle of intrigues and espionage. But such a thing as this has never happened before. Have you anything to go upon?"
"Captain Stanhope gave us nothing," said the adjutant.
"It would be best perhaps to get Grant to look into it," said Tremayne.
"If he is still in Lisbon," said Sir Terence.
"I passed him in the street an hour ago," replied Carruthers.
"Then by all means let a note be sent to him asking him if he will step up to Monsanto as soon as he conveniently can. You might see to it, Tremayne."
