Oh, there was no doubt that the treacherous blackguard had been
subtle. But - by God! - subtlety should be repaid with subtlety!
He would deal with Tremayne as cruelly as Tremayne had dealt with
him; and his wanton wife, too, should be repaid in kind. He beheld
the way clear, in a flash of wicked inspiration. He put back the
pistol, slapped down the lid of the box and replaced it in its
drawer.
He rose, took up the letter to the Commissary-general, stepped
briskly to the door and pulled it open.
"Mullins!" he called sharply. "Are you there? Mullins?"
Came the sound of a scraping chair, and instantly that door at the
end of the corridor was thrown open, and Mullins stood silhouetted
against the light behind him. A moment he stood there, then came
forward.
"You called, Sir Terence?"
"Yes." Sir Terence's voice was miraculously calm. His back was to
the light and his face in shadow, so that its drawn, haggard look
was not perceptible to the butler. "I am going to bed. But first
I want you to step across to the sergeant of the guard with this
letter for the Commissary-General. Tell him that it is of the
utmost importance, and ask him to arrange to have it taken into
Lisbon first thing in the morning.
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