You had my letter ?" "I had not, Your Grace," answered Wilding, very grave.

"It was stolen." "Stolen ?" cried the Duke, and behind him Grey pressed forward, whilst even Ferguson paused in his writing to raise his piercing eyes and listen.
"It is no matter," Wilding reassured him.

"Although stolen, it has but gone to Whitehall to-day, when it can add little to the news that is already on its way there." The Duke laughed softly, with a flash of white teeth, and looked past Wilding at Trenchard.

Some of the light faded out of his eyes.

"They told me Mr.Trenchard..." he began, when Wilding, half turning to his friend, explained.
"This is Mr.Nicholas Trenchard--John Trenchard's cousin.
"I bid you welcome, sir," said the Duke, very agreeably, "and I trust your cousin follows you." "Alas," said Trenchard, "my cousin is in France," and in a few brief words he related the matter of John Trenchard's home-coming on his acquittal and the trouble there had been connected with it.
The Duke received the news in silence.