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Updated: June 10, 2025
"I was detained by the arrival of a mail-bag from Vizeu," Sir Terence excused himself, as he took the chair which Mullins, the elderly, pontifical butler, drew out for him. "Ned is attending to it, and will be kept for a few moments yet." Lady O'Moy's expression quickened. "Are there no letters for me?" "None, my dear, I believe." "No word from Dick?"
"It is intended to enable us to form an opinion as to the lapse of time between her ladyship's hearing the cry and reaching the balcony." Grudgingly the president admitted the point, and the question was repeated. "Ye-es," came Lady O'Moy's tremulous, faltering answer, "I was in bed."
Grant's face remained inscrutable. "Really!" he said softly. "So that is Jeronymo de Samoval, eh? How very interesting. A great supporter of the British policy; therefore an altruist, since himself he is a sufferer by it; and I hear that he has become a great friend of O'Moy's." "He is at Monsanto a good deal certainly," Tremayne admitted. "Most interesting."
Looking intently into O'Moy's face, Dom Miguel saw the clear blue eyes flicker under his gaze, he beheld a grey shadow slowly overspreading the adjutant's ruddy cheek. Knowing nothing of the relationship between O'Moy and the offender, unable to guess the sources of the hesitation of which he now beheld such unmistakable signs, the minister naturally misunderstood it.
"Sir, sir," Captain Tremayne turned in wild appeal to the president, "this is not true." He conceived at once the terrible mistake that Miss Armytage had made. She must have seen him climb down from Lady O'Moy's balcony, and she had come to the only possible, horrible conclusion. "This lady is mistaken, I am ready to " "A moment, sir. You are interrupting," the president rebuked.
Butler is Lady O'Moy's brother," she said. He stared a moment, taken aback. "Good God! Ye don't say so, child! Her brother! O'Moy's brother-in-law! And O'Moy never said a word to me about it. "What should he say? Sir Terence himself pledged his word to the Council of Regency that Mr. Butler would be shot when taken." "Did he, egad!" He was still further surprised out of his sternness.
And soon the mist of passion clearing from his keen wits, he sought swiftly for a means to fasten the quarrel upon Sir Terence in Sir Terence's own coin of galling mockery. Instantly he found it. Indeed it was not very far to seek. O'Moy's jealousy, which was almost a byword, as we know, had been apparent more than once to Samoval.
"Pacing in front of quarters, sir." "Did you notice the windows of the building at all during that time?" "I can't say that I did, sir." "Why not?" "Why not?" echoed the private. "Yes why not? Don't repeat my words. How did it happen that you didn't notice the windows?" "Because they were in darkness, sir." O'Moy's eyes gleamed. "All of them?" "Certainly, sir, all of them."
It was amazing even to herself what an amount of detail there was to be considered, and from Sylvia she received but very indifferent assistance. There were times when she regretfully suspected in Sylvia a lack of proper womanliness, a taint almost of masculinity. There was to Lady O'Moy's mind something very wrong about a woman who preferred a canter to a waltz.
They picked him up unconscious but alive, and for once Lord Wellington was seen to blench as he flung down from his horse to inquire the nature of O'Moy's hurt. It was not fatal, but, as it afterwards proved, it was grave enough. He had been shot through the body, the right lung had been grazed and one of his ribs broken.
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