By the following morning John Gaunt had decided upon his plan of
campaign and without any delay started to work by communicating with
the secretary of the Congo Reform Association. Money was to be spent
lavishly, and capable speakers were chosen to speak in different parts
of the country. Gaunt himself was to go to the great centres and his
visits were to be advertised in every possible way. The secretary
eagerly welcomed this new ally, and threw himself with energy into the
task of making the necessary arrangements.
“I suggest that we bombard the papers with articles, and if there is
any difficulty in getting them inserted, I am prepared to pay the
advertisement rates,” Gaunt said grimly.
Edward Drake was present at the interview, and rejoiced to see that
Gaunt no longer hesitated, but was now even more determined to fulfil
his vow.
“I should like these articles to be sent out at once—to-day if
possible,” Gaunt continued quickly.
“It shall be done,” the secretary answered promptly.
For years he had waged a war against overwhelming odds and now he began
to hope that success was in sight. Always he had lacked the help of
such a man as Gaunt, with his millions, and he thanked Providence for
his good fortune, but still, like the rest of the world, he could not
quite understand why the millionaire had thrown himself into the fray.
Gaunt had devoted his brains to planning out the best way of rousing
the country, and no detail was too small for his consideration. It was
after a hard but satisfactory day’s work that he returned home with
Drake, and during the drive was wondering how he would be received by
his wife. They did not meet until dinner time, and Lady Mildred showed
him quite plainly but politely that she had not forgiven him for having
refused to go away in the yacht.
In fact, during the meal, they were all conscious of a feeling of
embarrassment, and it was a relief when the ladies left them to their
cigars. Gaunt only spoke in answer to a question, for he was thinking
over his position, and it seemed to him that the crisis must be very
near at hand. The few hours of grace given to him by the Baron had
elapsed, and it would not be long before his enemies made a move.
The next morning the newspapers were brought to him at an early hour,
and the first thing that caught his eye was the front page of the
_Daily Comet_, with its staring head-lines:
“_Gaunt and the Congo._”
And then he proceeded to read a bitter attack upon himself, and was
forced to admit that the article had been written with the greatest
skill, for it consisted of insinuations against his character which it
would be difficult to rebut. The deal in Amanti shares was referred to
in veiled terms, although to those on the inside the meaning was quite
clear. The writer proceeded to refer to Gaunt’s life in the Congo, and
the words which followed were pungent.
“This millionaire has allied himself with the Church, perhaps in the
hope that the friendship of bishops would cause to be forgotten the
means by which he gained his ill-gotten wealth. As we write there is
before us a written record of this man’s life in the Congo, and it
seems incredible that he can have the effrontery to pretend that his
aim is the betterment of the race that he himself has persecuted so
atrociously.
“Why has John Gaunt started this campaign? We confess that we are
unable to answer the question, and until we can do so, it is impossible
to believe in his good faith. Philanthropy is the last charge which we
should think of bringing against him, and we fear that he can only be
animated by some motive that will ultimately benefit himself. It has
been suggested that he is anxious to bring about European intervention,
in the hope that he will be rewarded by the grant of valuable
concessions.”
Gaunt could read no more but threw down the paper in disgust, and he
had no doubt that the Baron was responsible for this virulent attack.
Another paper attracted his attention; the whole of the front page,
which was usually occupied by advertisements, contained a statement
upon the Congo question. It was written without any exaggeration, and
plainly placed before the public the true state of affairs, laying
special stress upon the manner in which the Belgians were deceiving
Europe.
There were very few papers that did not contain a similar article,
inserted as advertisements and paid for with Gaunt’s money.
“Now I think that the fight has really commenced, and it won’t be long
before the Baron makes an answering move,” he muttered to himself.
Shortly afterwards Edward Drake came in; under his arm was a bundle of
newspapers, and he smiled when he saw those that Gaunt had thrown on
the floor.
“Isn’t it splendid? I think we have made a good start,” he said
cheerfully.
“Do you refer to the article in the _Comet_?” Gaunt asked drily.
“No one will pay any attention to that ‘rag,’” Drake answered quickly,
and then hesitated for a moment. “I wonder if you would allow me to
tell Lady Ethel everything? She might be able to help us?” he asked
nervously.
A smile came to Gaunt’s face, but he shook his head with decision.
“I am afraid that curiosity is one of her besetting weaknesses. I
have noticed that she has been very anxious to find out what is going
on, but I think it would be wiser to allow her curiosity to remain
unsatisfied,” he replied.
“I am not sure that it is idle curiosity,” Drake said reflectively.
“She is very fond of her sister, and——”
“We will change the subject,” Gaunt said peremptorily, and Drake
realized that it would be dangerous to persist further.
However, Gaunt was fated to meet with a more strenuous advocate, for
Lady Ethel herself came into the library.
“Mr. Drake, I wish to speak to Mr. Gaunt,” she announced quietly, and
then smiled a little maliciously as he prepared to depart.
“What do you want? I’m busy and haven’t much time to spare,” Gaunt
said curtly, for he did not approve of the way in which she had spoken.
“Busy with the wretched Congo, I suppose? At any rate, you can find
time to discuss a matter which affects the happiness of my sister,”
she said slowly. “Unless, of course, the wretched natives are of more
consequence than your wife,” she added quickly, and there was a look of
defiance on her face.
“Don’t you think you would be wiser to concern yourself with your own
affairs? It would seem probable that they will require attention, if
you go on flirting in the same reckless manner,” he said significantly.
She flushed hotly and with difficulty suppressed an angry reply.
“I am not to be bluffed in that way. I have come for a serious talk and
don’t intend to go away until we come to an understanding,” she said
with quiet determination.
“Very well. Say your say and pray get it over as quickly as possible,”
he rejoined with a sigh of resignation.
“I passed the nursery just now. Your wife was there, and she was
alone with the baby. She did not see me, and she was crying bitterly,
and tears are nearly strangers to Mildred’s eyes. Ah! I am glad that
affects you a little. I don’t mean to suggest that she hasn’t faults,
but at heart Mildred is a fine woman. She may have been selfish, but
she is loyal through and through, and I honestly believe that she has
learned to care for you.”
She watched him anxiously, and was encouraged to proceed, for she
noticed that his face had grown white, and there was a look of utter
misery in his eyes.
“I must confess that when I was present at your wedding, I imagined
that she was selling herself to you, for I could see nothing attractive
in your personality; and, girl as I was, I knew something of the way
in which the world talked of you. All the time I was in France I was
wondering how you were getting on together, and when I came home a few
days ago I was amazed, for I believed that Mildred cared for you. What
I have seen since has confirmed me in that belief.”
She paused as if expecting him to make some remark, but Gaunt remained
silent.
“I have no doubt that you love Mildred. At times I have seen an
expression in your eyes when you have been talking to her that rather
frightened me. But I think that I should like to be loved in the same
way,” she added pensively, and Gaunt uttered a harsh laugh.
“You love Mildred, and she loves you. That being so, may I ask what all
this wretched fuss is about?” she demanded angrily.
“I repeat that I think that you had better mind your own business.”
“I have asked Mildred and she will tell me nothing. Mr. Drake and his
brother have practically admitted that there is a secret but they won’t
tell me what it is. I could not press them for an answer, but you are
different.”
Suddenly her whole manner changed, softening wondrously.
“John, dear, I like you, for I believe you to be a good sort. Not
exactly the man that I should have chosen to be Mildred’s husband, but
I believe that you are the only one that could make her happy. I know
you look upon me as a little fool, and perhaps you aren’t far wrong;
but I love Mildred, and hate to see her miserable. Go to her now,
take her in your arms and kiss her. Pack up your traps and clear off
together.”
“I wish to God that I could,” he cried passionately. “Don’t you realize
that I love Mildred body and soul? And that I long for her in a way
that you cannot understand? Do you think that it was an easy matter
to put her deliberately out of my life? Ethel, it is killing me—this
necessity—and yet I dare not do otherwise. You are a good little soul
to come to me in this way, and I won’t forget it. Ethel, dear, I, too,
want your sympathy,” he wound up brokenly.
She could see that he was suffering acutely, and immediately all her
sympathy was aroused. She placed her hand on his shoulder, and bending
her head, touched his forehead with her lips. Gaunt had revealed
himself in a way that had surprised her greatly, for it was impossible
to believe that he was not in deadly earnest, and her heart sank. The
secret, whatever it might be, was evidently not a thing that could be
swept aside easily; it was not a stupid misunderstanding, caused by
stiff-necked pride, but something serious.
“John, I am sorry, and won’t worry you any more, but I should like you
to know that I am your friend, and that you can count on me,” she said
with simple earnestness.
There was a knock at the door and a footman entered.
“The Baron de Croiseuil wishes to see you, sir, and he asked me to say
that his business was of the utmost importance. Her ladyship instructed
me that she was ‘not at home’ should the Baron call, but as you had
given me no orders, sir, I thought it better to announce the Baron.”
“You did quite right, James. I will see him here,” Gaunt answered, but
Lady Ethel intervened quickly.
“Don’t see him, John,” she cried appealingly.
Gaunt looked at her curiously, and then glanced at the footman who
still waited.