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Barbara； and diffused by the 'Bucklandbury News'； had not become
common knowledge at the Court till after Lord Dennis had started out
to fish。 In combination with the report that Miltoun had arrived and
gone out without breakfast； it had been received with mingled
feelings。 Bertie； Harbinger； and Shropton； in a short conclave；
after agreeing that from the point of view of the election it was
perhaps better than if she had been a divorcee； were still inclined
to the belief that no time was to be lostin doing what； however；
they were unable to determine。 Apart from the impossibility of
knowing how a fellow like Miltoun would take the matter； they were
faced with the devilish subtlety of all situations to which the
proverb 'Least said； soonest mended' applies。 They were in the
presence of that awe…inspiring thing； the power of scandal。 Simple
statements of simple facts； without moral drawn （to which no legal
exception could be taken） laid before the public as pieces of
interesting information； or at the worst exposed in perfect good
faith； lest the public should blindly elect as their representative
one whose private life might not stand the inspection of daylight
what could be more justifiable！ And yet Miltoun's supporters knew
that this simple statement of where he spent his evenings had a
poisonous potency； through its power of stimulating that side of the
human imagination the most easily excited。 They recognized only too
well； how strong was a certain primitive desire； especially in rural
districts； by yielding to which the world was made to go； and how
remarkably hard it； was not to yield to it； and how interesting and
exciting to see or hear of others yielding to it； and how （though
here； of course； men might differ secretly） reprehensible of them to
do so！ They recognized； too well； how a certain kind of conscience
would appreciate this rumour； and how the puritans would lick their
lengthened chops。 They knew； too； how irresistible to people of any
imagination at all； was the mere combination of a member of a class；
traditionally supposed to be inclined to having what it wanted； with
a lady who lived alone！ As Harbinger said： It was really devilish
awkward！ For； to take any notice of it would be to make more people
than ever believe it true。 And yet； that it was working mischief；
they felt by the secret voice in their own souls； telling them that
they would have believed it if they had not known better。 They hung
about； waiting for Miltoun to come in。
The news was received by Lady Valleys with a sigh of intense relief；
and the remark that it was probably another lie。 When Barbara
confirmed it； she only said： 〃Poor Eustace！〃 and at once wrote off to
her husband to say that 'Anonyma' was still married； so that the
worst fortunately could not happen。
Miltoun came in to lunch； but from his face and manner nothing could
be guessed。 He was a thought more talkative than usual； and spoke of
Brabrook's speechsome of which he had heard。 He looked at Courtier
meaningly； and after lunch said to him：
〃Will you come round to my den？〃
In that room； the old withdrawing…room of the Elizabethan wingwhere
once had been the embroideries； tapestries； and missals of beruffled
dames were now books； pamphlets； oak…panels； pipes； fencing gear； and
along one wall a collection of Red Indian weapons and ornaments
brought back by Miltoun from the United States。 High on the wall
above these reigned the bronze death…mask of a famous Apache Chief；
cast from a plaster taken of the face by a professor of Yale College；
who had declared it to be a perfect specimen of the vanishing race。
That visage； which had a certain weird resemblance to Dante's；
presided over the room with cruel； tragic stoicism。 No one could
look on it without feeling that； there； the human will had been
pushed to its farthest limits of endurance。
Seeing it for the first time； Courtier said：
〃Fine thingthat！ Only wants a soul。〃
Miltoun nodded：
〃Sit down；〃 he said。
Courtier sat down。
There followed one of those silences in which men whose spirits；
though different； have a certain bigness in commoncan say so much
to one another：
At last Miltoun spoke：
〃I have been living in the clouds； it seems。 You are her oldest
friend。 The immediate question is how to make it easiest for her in
face of this miserable rumour！〃
Not even Courtier himself could have put such whip…lash sting into
the word 'miserable。'
He answered：
〃Oh！ take no notice of that。 Let them stew in their own juice。 She
won't care。〃
Miltoun listened； not moving a muscle of his face。
〃Your friends here；〃 went on Courtier with a touch of contempt； 〃seem
in a flutter。 Don't let them do anything； don't let them say a word。
Treat the thing as it deserves to be treated。 It'll die。〃
Miltoun； however； smiled。
〃I'm not sure；〃 he said； 〃that the consequences will be as you think；
but I shall do as you say。〃
〃As for your candidature； any man with a spark of generosity in his
soul will rally to you because of it。〃
〃Possibly；〃 said Miltoun。 〃It will lose me the election； for all
that。〃
Then； dimly conscious that their last words had revealed the
difference of their temperaments and creeds； they stared at one
another。
〃No；〃 said Courtier； 〃I never will believe that people can be so
mean！〃
〃Until they are。〃
〃Anyway； though we get at it in different ways； we agree。〃
Miltoun leaned his elbow on the mantelpiece； and shading his face
with his hand； said：
〃You know her story。 Is there any way out of that； for her？〃
On Courtier's face was the look which so often came when he was
speaking for one of his lost causesas if the fumes from a fire in
his heart had mounted to his head。
〃Only the way；〃 he answered calmly； 〃that I should take if I were
you。〃
〃And that？〃
〃The law into your own hands。〃
Miltoun unshaded his face。 His gaze seemed to have to travel from an
immense distance before it reached Courtier。 He answered：
〃Yes； I thought you would say that。〃
CHAPTER XVII
When everything； that night； was quiet； Barbara； her hair hanging
loose outside her dressing gown； slipped from her room into the dim
corridor。 With bare feet thrust into fur…crowned slippers which made
no noise； she stole along looking at door after door。 Through a long
Gothic window； uncurtained； the mild moonlight was coming。 She
stopped just where that moonlight fell； and tapped。 There came no
answer。 She opened the door a little way； and said：
〃Are you asleep； Eusty？〃
There still came no answer； and she went in。
The curtains were drawn； but a chink of moonlight peering through
fell on the bed。 This was empty。 Barbara stood uncertain；
listening。 In the heart of that darkness there seemed to be； not
sound； but； as it were； the muffled soul of sound； a sort of strange
vibration； like that of a flame noiselessly licking the air。 She put
her hand to her heart； which beat as though it would leap through the
thin silk covering。 From what corner of the room was that mute
tremor coming？ Stealing to the window； she parted the curtains； and
stared back into