Lord Romsey hesitated.  His natural propensity for temporising asserted itself and his finger left the bell.  The other continued.

“You are in the unfortunate position, Lord Romsey, of having failed absolutely in your duty towards your own country, and having grossly and traitorously deceived a personage who has always treated you with the greatest kindness.  I am here to see if it is possible for you to make some amends.”

“I deny every word you say,” the Minister declared passionately, “and I refuse to hear your proposition.”

Mr Sidney’s manner suddenly changed.  He leaned forward in his chair.

“Do not be foolish,” he advised.  “Your last letter to a certain personage was dated June second.  I have a copy of it with me.  Shall I read it to you, word by word?”

“Thank you, I remember enough of it,” Lord Romsey groaned.

“You will listen, then to what I have to say,” the envoy proceeded, “or that letter will be published in the Times to-morrow morning.  You know what that will mean—­your political ruin, your everlasting disgrace.  What use will this country, blinded at the present moment by prejudice, have for a statesman, who without authority, pledged his Government to an alliance with Germany, who over his own signature—­”

“Stop!” Lord Romsey interrupted.  “There is no purpose in this.  What is it you want?”

“Your influence in the Cabinet.  You are responsible for this war.  It is for you to end it.”

“Rubbish!” the other exclaimed hoarsely.  “You are attempting to saddle me with a responsibility like this, simply because my personal sympathies have always been on the side of the country you are representing.”

“It is not a question of your personal sympathies,” Mr. Sidney returned swiftly.  “In black and white you pledged your Government to abstain from war against Germany.”

“How could I tell,” the statesman protested, “that Germany was thinking of tearing up treaties, of entering into a campaign of sheer and scandalous aggression?”

“You made no stipulations or conditions in what you wrote,” was the calm reply.  “You pledged your word that your Government would never declare war against Germany.  You alluded to the French entente as an unnatural one.  You spoke eloquently of the kinship of spirit between England and Germany.”

Lord Romsey moved uneasily in his chair.  He had expected to find this an unpleasant interview and he was certainly not being disappointed.

“Well, I was mistaken,” he admitted.  “What I said was true enough.  I never did believe that the Government with which I was associated would declare war against Germany.  Even now, let me tell you that there isn’t a soul breathing who knows how close the real issue was.  If your people had only chosen any other line of advance!”

“I have not come here to recriminate,” Mr. Sidney declared.  “That is not my mission.  I am here to state our terms for refraining from sending your letters—­your personal letters to the Kaiser—­to the English Press.”