Julian was still staring from one to the other of his visitors.  His expression of blank astonishment had scarcely decreased.

“Bishop,” he said at last, “unless you want to see me go insane before your eyes, please explain.  It can’t be possible that you have anything in common with this nest of conspirators.”

The Bishop smiled a little wanly.  He laid his hand upon his godson’s shoulder.

“Believe me, I have been no party to your incarceration, Julian,”, he declared, “but if you will listen to me, I will tell you why I think it would be better for you to restore that packet to Miss Abbeway:” 

“Tell that blackguard to give me another sniff of his restorative gas,” Julian begged.  “These shocks are almost too much for me.”

The Bishop turned interrogatively towards Bright, who once more leaned over Julian with the tube in his hand.  Again the little mist, the pungent odour.  Julian rose to his feet and sat down again.

“I am listening,” he said.

“First of all,” began the Bishop earnestly, as he seated himself at the end of the couch on which Julian had been lying, “let me try to remove some of your misconceptions.  Miss Abbeway is in no sense of the word a German spy.  She and I, Mr. Furley here, Mr. Fenn and Mr. Bright, all belong to an organisation leagued together for one purpose—­we are determined to end the war.”

“Pacifists!” Julian muttered.

“An idle word,” the Bishop protested, “because at heart we are all pacifists.  There is not one of us who would wilfully choose war instead of peace.  The only question is the price we are prepared to pay.”

“Why not leave that to the Government?”

“The Government,” the Bishop replied, “are the agents of the people.  The people in this case wish to deal direct.”

“Again why?” Julian demanded.

“Because the Government is composed wholly of politicians, politicians who, in far too many speeches, have pledged themselves to too many definite things.  Still, the Government will have its chance.”

“Explain to me,” Julian asked, “why, if you are a patriotic society, you are in secret and illegal communication with Germany?”

“The Germany with whom we are in communication,” the Bishop assured his questioner, “is the Germany who thinks as we do.”

“Then you are on a wild-goose chase,” Julian declared, “because the Germans who think as you do are in a hopeless minority.”

The Bishop’s forefinger was thrust out.

“I have you, Julian,” he said.  “That very belief which you have just expressed is our justification, because it is the common belief throughout the country.  I can prove to you that you are mistaken—­can prove it, with the help of that very packet which is responsible for your incarceration here.”

“Explain,” Julian begged.

“That packet,” the Bishop declared, “contains the peace terms formulated by the Socialist and Labour parties of Germany.”