“It has relieved my mind of a mighty burden,” Selingman continued, setting down his empty plate and brushing the crumbs from his waistcoat.  “I feel now that we can look on at this world drama with sorrowing eyes, indeed, but free from feelings of hatred and animosity.  I have had a trying day.  I should like a little bridge.  Let us—­”

Selingman did not finish his sentence.  The whole room, for a moment, seemed to become a study in still life.  A woman who had been crossing the floor stood there as though transfixed.  A man who was dealing paused with an outstretched card in his hand.  Every eye was turned on the threshold.  It was Norgate who stood there, Norgate metamorphosed, in khaki uniform—­an amazing spectacle!  Mrs. Barlow was the first to break the silence with a piercing shriek.  Then the whole room seemed to be in a turmoil.  Selingman alone sat quite still.  There was a grey shade upon his face, and the veins were standing out at the back of his hands.

“So sorry to startle you all,” Norgate said apologetically.  “Of course, you haven’t seen the afternoon papers.  It was my valet who was found dead in my rooms—­a most mysterious affair,” he added, his eyes meeting Selingman’s.  “The inquest is to be this afternoon.”

“Your valet!” Selingman muttered.

“A very useful fellow,” Norgate continued, strolling to the fireplace and standing there, “but with a very bad habit of wearing my clothes when I am away.  I was down in Camberley for three days and left him in charge.”

They showered congratulations upon him, but in the midst of them the strangeness of his appearance provoked their comment.

“What does it mean?” Mrs. Benedek asked, patting his arm.  “Have you turned soldier?”

“In a sense I have,” Norgate admitted, “but only in the sense that every able-bodied Englishman will have to do, in the course of the next few months.  Directly I saw this coming, I arranged for a commission.”

“But there is to be no war!” Mrs. Barlow exclaimed.  “Mr. Selingman has been explaining to us this afternoon what wonderful offers Germany is making, so that we shall be able to remain neutral and yet keep our pledges.”

“Mr. Selingman,” Norgate said quietly, “is under a delusion.  Germany, it is true, has offered us a shameless bribe.  I am glad to be able to tell you all that our Ministry, whatever their politics may be, have shown themselves men.  An English ultimatum is now on its way to Berlin.  War will be declared before midnight.”

Selingman rose slowly to his feet.  His face was black with passion.  He pushed a man away who stood between them.  He was face to face with Norgate.

“So you,” he thundered, suddenly reckless of the bystanders, “are a double traitor!  You have taken pay from Germany and deceived her!  You knew, after all, that your Government would make war when the time came.  Is that so?”