“Yes, your Grace,” I answered.

“Lord Chelsford, if you were able to convince him, would most certainly be misled in this direction.  That is why I have kept your report to myself.  That is why my advice to you now is to say nothing about your imagined displacement of those papers.  That is my advice.  You understand?”

“Yes, your Grace,” I repeated.

“With regard to the Prince of Malors,” the Duke continued, “my firm conviction is that you were mistaken.  Malors is not a politician.  He has nothing whatever to gain or lose in this matter.  He is a member of one of the most ancient houses of Europe, a house which for generations has been closely connected with my own.  I absolutely decline to believe that whilst under my roof a Malors could lower himself to the level of a common spy.  Such an accusation brought against him would be regarded as a blot upon my hospitality.  Further, it would mean the breaking off of my ancient ties of friendship.  I am very anxious, therefore, that you should bring yourself to accept my view as to this episode also.”

“Your Grace,” I answered, “you ask me very hard things.”

He looked at me with his clear cold eyes.

“Surely not too hard, Mr. Ducaine,” he said.  “I ask you to accept my judgment.  Consider for a moment.  You are a young man, little more than a boy.  I for forty years have been a servant of my country, both in the field and as a lawmaker.  I am a Cabinet Minister.  I have a life-long experience of men and their ways.  My judgment in this matter is that you were mistaken, and much mischief is likely to ensue if the Prince of Malors should find himself an object of suspicion amongst us.”

“Your Grace,” I said, “forgive me, but why do you not say these things to the Board, or to Lord Chelsford and Colonel Ray after they have heard my story?”

“Because,” the Duke answered, “I have no confidence in the judgment of either of them.  Both in their way are excellent men, but they are of this new generation, who do not probe beneath the surface, who form their opinions only from the obvious.  It is possible that after hearing your story they might consider the problem solved.  I am, at any rate, convinced that they would commence a search for its solution in altogether wrong quarters.”

“Your Grace,” I said firmly, “I am very sorry indeed that I cannot take your advice.  I think it most important that Lord Cheisford should know that those papers were tampered with.  And as regards the Prince of Malors, whatever his motive may have been, I discovered him in the act of perusing the documents relating to the subway of Portsmouth.  I cannot possibly withhold my knowledge of these things from Lord Chelsford.  In fact, I think it is most important that he should know of them.”

The Duke rose slowly to his feet.  He showed no sign of anger.

“If you prefer your own judgment to mine, Mr. Ducaine,” he said, “I have no more to say.  I have taken you into my confidence, and I have endeavoured to show you your most politic course of behaviour.  If your views are so far opposed, you must not consider it an injustice if I decide that a person of more judgment is required successfully to conduct the duties of secretary to the Council.”