It would have been impossible to choose a more suitable emissary than
the Baron de Croiseuil for the task of dealing with John Gaunt, for
he was an astute diplomatist, and entirely devoid of scruples. During
the last few years there had grown up in Belgium a group of men whose
prosperity was solely due to the Congo. Many of them had spent varying
periods of time in that country, and had returned without the sense of
honor which they may once have possessed.
When Gaunt first went to West Africa, the Baron was a high official of
the Free State, and he was mainly responsible for the carrying out of
the late King’s decree that rubber must be got, and that the method of
obtaining it need not be considered. It was a congenial task, for as
he made money for his master, so did he line his own pockets, and the
time came when he could return to Belgium a man of wealth, and covered
with the honors that the King delighted to confer upon those who had
succeeded in sending to him the millions which he needed for the
pursuit of his life of vice.
But when Baron de Croiseuil arrived home he was not allowed to remain
idle for long, and his services were utilized to stifle the cry for
reform that was just beginning to be heard in England, and the United
States, and right well did he carry out the duties.
The death of the King had come at an opportune moment, for it would
give the Belgian rule of the Congo a fresh lease of life, and there
would be no necessity to change their methods, for it would be a simple
matter to answer criticisms by saying that, now there was a new king,
conditions would be improved, provided that time was allowed to bring
about the necessary reforms. And all the time there was no intention to
relax the rigor of their rule, but rather to force the natives to work
the harder, so that the harvest might be garnered, before Europe awoke
to the fact that it had been cleverly hoodwinked.
All was peace and contentment in Brussels, for each ship brought its
increasing cargo of rubber and the demand for reform had almost ceased;
until the big meeting took place in which Gaunt had made so dramatic an
appearance.
The Baron immediately realized the seriousness of the situation, for
naturally the words of a man, who had been one of the first to exploit
the Congo, would carry great weight. A hurried meeting took place in
Brussels, and as a consequence De Croiseuil came to England with an
entirely free hand, and practically an unlimited purse.
It was with great interest that he had attended the meeting, and his
amazement was great when he listened to Gaunt’s speech.
“He speaks like an honest man,” had been his thought.
And so he had entered the library without any confidence that he could
succeed in influencing John Gaunt, but he was determined to leave no
stone unturned.
“You can do your worst. I defy you,” Gaunt repeated harshly.
There was an evil light in the Baron’s eyes, but he spoke calmly and
slowly, pronouncing each word with great distinctness.
“I think that you will change your decision, _mon ami_. If not for your
own sake, for your wife’s. May I suggest that you do not enjoy the best
of reputations in your own country. You have made many enemies, who
will be only too glad to seize any opportunity of doing you an injury,
and there are many vulnerable places in your armor. It may be necessary
that I should join hands with your enemies, and one in particular. By
a happy chance I know Mr. Julian Weiss; we have had business deals
together, and he is a man who never forgets an injury. Forgive me,
Gaunt. This conversation is extremely unpleasant to me personally, and
I would gladly drop it if you would only say one little word.”
“I have given you my answer,” Gaunt said gravely.
“Still, I do not despair of making you change your mind. This little
_dossier_ contains other details of your life in the Congo. Of course
it is a savage country, and one doesn’t expect our domestic fireside
morals to prevail, but——”
He stopped and shrugged his shoulders expressively, while his face bore
a deprecating smile.
“Lady Mildred is a charming woman, and I am proud to number her among
my acquaintances. I propose to cultivate my acquaintanceship with her.
It would be deplorable if I am compelled to let her know something of
the kind of life you led in the Free State.”
Gaunt’s face had grown very white, and he required all his strength of
will to keep back a flow of contemptuous words.
“My patience is exhausted, and I think——”
He ceased speaking and turned round quickly, for the door had opened.
“I am sorry to disturb you. I thought you were alone,” Edward Drake,
for it was he who entered, said apologetically.
“Don’t go away, Drake, for I should like to introduce you to the Baron
de Croiseuil, whose name you probably know,” John said quietly.
The Baron bowed, and Drake returned the salutation, but his manner was
frigid, for he was only too well acquainted with the part that this
smiling Belgian had played in the Congo.
“The Baron has come to England to try and silence me and he has told
me pretty plainly what the consequences will be if I refuse to be
silenced,” John Gaunt said grimly.
“I think it would be wiser that our business should not be discussed
before a third party. This gentleman has the air of a priest, and I
will leave him to give you good advice. _Bon soir, messieurs._”
He bowed very politely, and walked to the door.
“I will give you till the morning for consideration. I am staying at
the Ritz, and you will find me there till midday.”
The Baron smiled pleasantly, and it was not until he had entered the
motor-car that was awaiting him, that he permitted the mask to fall
from his face. It was now evident that all his resources would be
needed to compel Gaunt to hold his tongue, and he was not at all sure
that he would ultimately succeed. But he was an astute judge of human
nature, and rather imagined that Gaunt’s one weak spot lay on his
wife, and so he determined to turn his attention to Lady Mildred.
In the hall of the Ritz Hotel he found a gentleman waiting him, who
rose to greet him.
“Good-evening, Sherren. I am sorry to be late, but it was unavoidable.
Will you come up to my sitting-room?” the Baron said politely.
Charles Sherren was an insignificant little man who would have
been quite unnoticeable had it not been for his eyes, which were
remarkably intelligent. Well known in Fleet Street, but unattached
to any newspaper, he was reported to make a good income, for he had
been successful in one or two brilliant journalistic coups, that had
brought him into prominence. An accomplished linguist, no one knew his
real nationality, although many called him a Jew, a statement which he
vigorously resented, in spite of his rather Semitic type of features.
To the Baron he had always proved a reliable tool, and had carried out
the delicate instructions he was wont to receive with great skill.
Sherren was responsible for the many reassuring statements that had
appeared in the papers concerning the state of affairs in the Congo,
and it was owing to his adroitness that editors had never suspected
that their papers were being used by the Congo Press Bureau. In fact
his name had never been publicly connected with the Free State, and on
that account his services were likely to prove of all the greater value.
“I have just come from Gaunt,” the Baron remarked, when they were
seated in his room.
“Were you successful?” Sherren asked eagerly.
“Quite the reverse, and now I shall require you to carry out my little
programme. As a matter of fact I have given him till twelve o’clock
to-morrow to climb down, but I have little hope that he will do so. I
want you to understand that this man must be crushed at once, for he is
doing us incalculable harm. It requires but an entente between England
and Germany to cause the Powers to intervene. In spite of all our
efforts, reports continue to come from the Congo, and if this campaign
is continued, the British people may take it into their stupid heads
to run riot as they did in the case of the Armenian atrocities. It
needs but another Gladstone to rouse them, and this man Gaunt is a born
orator. In fact I must admit that I myself was rather moved by what he
said to-night,” the Baron wound up cynically.
“I cannot rush the matter. It is a difficult business to use the
newspapers for private interests, and the greatest tact is necessary.
Fortunately for us, Gaunt’s financial reputation is none of the best,
and I know one or two people who are anxious to get at him,” Sherren
said reflectively.
“Particularly Julian Weiss,” the Baron said significantly.
“Yes, over their Amanti deal. But unfortunately Weiss is equally
involved with Gaunt. In fact I think that he was the prime mover in the
swindle. The man who forged the cable is on his way back to England,
and arrives in a day or two. I will see him, and it may be possible to
bring the matter up.”
“There is no necessity to do that. It will be sufficient to place me in
a position to threaten Gaunt. I only want the evidence,” De Croiseuil
said quickly.
“I will do my best to get it, but it may prove costly.”
“_Carte blanche_,” the Baron replied laconically.
“That will certainly make things easier. But I fear that you have a
difficult task before you, for Gaunt is the very devil. I know, for I
tried a little bout with him once upon a time and I came off second
best,” Sherren remarked with a rueful smile.
“Yes, he is a strong man, but so am I.”
“May I ask what you intend to do if threats are of no avail?”
“Carry out the threats and blacken his character in every way, for that
will naturally discount the value of what he says. The public are not
yet convinced that the man is honest in what he is doing.” The Baron
paused for a moment, and then continued reflectively, “I wonder if it
would be possible to accuse him of blackmail. It might be believed that
he was taking this line to force money out of us.”
“But Gaunt is a millionaire, and such a charge would rebound upon
yourself.”
“I see what you mean, and it is a card that I must keep in reserve
for it is a risky one to play. By the bye, have you any idea of the
relations which exist between Gaunt and his wife? What does gossip
say?” the Baron asked casually.
“That she married him for his money. As to Gaunt, I have heard that
he acted like a madman when it was thought that his wife would die. I
can’t tell you more than that.”
“Lady Mildred gave me the impression of being a very proud woman. I
wonder if she has much influence with her husband?”
“It is hard to say,” Sherren said doubtfully.
“But I should imagine that she would loathe the idea of any scandal.
And he is in love with her, you say? Well, I cannot decry his taste,
for she is very beautiful, but cold—cold. Ah, these English women, I
can’t understand them. To be loved by them is bliss, but to love—that
is another matter.”
And the Baron was supposed to have a very complete knowledge of the
feminine sex, if rumor spoke truly. He sighed wearily as he lighted
another cigarette.
“Start work on the lines I have suggested, and come to see me to-morrow
night. Until then you are to do nothing definite. Good-night.”
Sherren held out his hand which the Baron took for just a moment, and
then left.
“The man is a little reptile but he is useful,” De Croiseuil remarked,
and then he took a handkerchief from his pocket with which he carefully
wiped the hand that had touched Sherren.
“I wonder what is Gaunt’s motive?” he said aloud, and when he fell
asleep, he had found no answer to the question.