The family scene may be imagined.  But both threats and blandishments were entirely lost upon the son.  There was in him an idealist obstinacy which listened to nothing but the cry of a cause, and he declared that nothing would or should prevent him from carrying the story of the bribe direct to Nehemiah Wilkins, Wharton’s chief rival in the House, and so saving the country and the Labour party from the disaster and disgrace of Wharton’s leadership.  There was no time to lose, the party meeting in the House was only two days off.

At the end of a long struggle, which exhausted everybody concerned, and was carried on to a late hour of the night, Denny pere, influenced by a desire to avoid worse things—­conscious, too, of the abundant evidence he possessed of Wharton’s acceptance and private use of the money—­and, probably, when it came to the point, not unwilling,—­under compulsion!—­to tumble such a hero from his pedestal, actually wrote, under his son’s advice, a letter to Wilkins.  It was couched in the most cautious language, and professed to be written in the interests of Wharton himself, to put an end “to certain ugly and unfounded rumours that have been brought to my knowledge.”  The negotiation itself was described in the driest business terms.  “Mr. Wharton, upon cause shown, consented to take part in the founding of the Syndicate, and in return for his assistance, was allotted ten founders’ shares in the new company.  The transaction differed in nothing from those of ordinary business”—­a last sentence slily added by the Socialist son, and innocently accepted by one of the shrewdest of men.

After which Master George Denny scarcely slept, and by nine o’clock next morning was in a hansom on his way to Wilkins’s lodgings in Westminster.  The glee of that black-bearded patriot hardly needs description.  He flung himself on the letter with a delight and relief so exuberant that George Denny went off to another more phlegmatic member of the anti-Wharton “cave,” with entreaties that an eye should be kept on the member for Derlingham, lest he should do or disclose anything before the dramatic moment.

Then he himself spent the next forty-eight hours in ingenious efforts to put together certain additional information as to the current value of founders’ shares in the new company, the nature and amount of Wharton’s debts, and so on.  Thanks to his father’s hints he was able in the end to discover quite enough to furnish forth a supplementary statement.  So that, when the 10th arrived, the day rose upon a group of men breathlessly awaiting a play within a play—­with all their parts rehearsed, and the prompter ready.

* * * * *

Such in substance, was Anthony’s story.  So carried away was he by the excitement and triumph of it, that he soon ceased to notice what its effect might be upon his pale and quick-breathing companion.

“And now what has happened?” she asked him abruptly, when at last he paused.