Lord Lynton did not look forward to his interview with Sir Keith
Hamilton, but there was nothing to be gained by postponement, for he
was satisfied that there was no chance of being able to persuade Gaunt
to change his mind. Accordingly he went to the foreign office at once,
and was admitted into the presence of his chief.
“Have you been successful?” the latter asked quickly.
“No, sir. Mr. Gaunt absolutely refused to cease this agitation. It is
needless to say that I spared no effort to get him to fall in with your
wishes, but he is quite obstinate. He is an extremely difficult man to
handle,” the Earl said apologetically.
“So I should imagine. Please tell me everything that took place. Pray
be as accurate as possible.”
And Lord Lynton proceeded to relate in detail their conversation, while
the foreign secretary listened attentively.
“A strong man, your brother-in-law. I must see what I can do with him.
When is he coming here?”
“I regret to say that he refuses to come at all,” the Earl answered
hesitatingly.
“Ah, that is serious, for it sounds like a declaration of war,” the
minister said slowly.
“He intimated that if you wished to see him you would find him at Gaunt
House. I am very sorry that I have not been more successful, sir.”
“So am I,” Sir Keith answered drily, and then lapsed into silence.
The Earl fidgeted in his chair, for he began to imagine that his
presence had been forgotten, but suddenly he felt a pair of piercing
gray eyes turned towards him.
“You had better remain in London for the present. Are you staying with
Mr. Gaunt?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Remain there, for you may be useful. Just one question, and it is
rather a delicate one. What attitude does Lady Mildred take up? Of
course you spoke to her on the subject?”
“Yes, and I am sorry to say that she backs up her husband. She seems to
have changed a good deal since her marriage.”
“Gaunt is evidently a man with a personality, and I shall be interested
to meet him.”
“You intend to go to his house?” the Earl cried in surprise.
“Yes, but there is no necessity to mention my intention to Gaunt.”
A secretary had entered and placed a piece of paper before Sir Keith.
“Yes, I will see the Baron, but not until I ring. Good-evening, my
lord. Please keep in constant touch with the office,” the latter
remarked to the Earl, who then left the room.
When the door was closed, Sir Keith rose and began to pace to and fro.
It was evident that he was thinking deeply, and now one could see that
the first impression of youth was false, for there were deep lines on
his clean shaven face, and the hair near his temples was turning gray.
Then he took up a précis which told him of the latest developments in
the Congo agitation, and his brows became puckered into a frown as he
read.
“This man must be stopped. Now we will see what the Baron has to say,”
he muttered irritably, and then touched the button of the electric bell.
The two men were old acquaintances, and had a mutual respect for one
another’s ability. The Baron possessed an advantage for he knew that
Sir Keith was a straightforward gentleman, and incapable of chicanery
and underhand dealing.
“I expected you before this, Baron. You have been in London some few
days,” the minister remarked, as he returned the Belgian’s elaborate
bow.
“Yes, your Excellency, but I have had very much to occupy my time. Pray
forgive the delay in paying my call,” the Baron answered politely.
“It is not difficult to guess what has occupied you. For one
word—Gaunt?”
“Your guess is a shrewd one; and in this case I think our interests are
identical. Do you not agree with me?”
“It depends where your interests lie?”
“It is evident—in stopping Gaunt from raising this clamor. It is not
necessary for us to discuss the international situation, for you know
it better than I do. It suffices to say that this agitation is against
your interests and ours.”
“I do not know that it affects my government very greatly, but I can
quite understand that you would object to this exposure. Why not remedy
the state of affairs in the Congo, for sooner or later you will have to
do so?” Sir Keith said significantly.
“We are doing our utmost to improve the status of the natives, but
these things cannot be done in a moment,” the Baron expostulated.
“That is the official voice that speaks. Unofficially I tell you that
the treatment of the natives is as bad as ever it was, and you know it.
But it is useless discussing that; I will drop you a friendly hint. You
are reaching the end of your tether.”
Sir Keith spoke very seriously, and his eyes did not leave the Baron’s
face.
“Of course you are speaking unofficially,” the latter said quietly.
“Quite so,” Sir Keith rejoined drily; “and now may I know what I can do
for you?”
“Close the mouth of this man, Gaunt.”
“That is not an easy matter. England is a free country, and prides
itself upon its freedom of speech. So far Gaunt has not given us any
grounds for interference.”
“But the agitation is increasing by leaps and bounds. The situation may
become dangerous.”
“You are afraid that His Majesty’s government may be forced by the
clamor to intervene in the Congo. Put an end to the abuses and you will
have no cause for anxiety. I regret that I cannot help you, Baron.”
Sir Keith rose to terminate the interview, but de Croiseuil made no
sign of going.
“A word from you to Gaunt would make him stop,” he said doggedly.
“This is not Belgium. An official, however high he may be, is not such
an exalted person as in your country. Good-morning, Baron,” Sir Keith
said decidedly.
“I shall esteem it a favor if you will glance through these papers. I
see that you are a busy man, and I will call again for your opinion. I
have the honor of wishing good-day to your Excellency.”
And the Baron, having placed a large envelope on the table, bowed
himself from the room. The foreign secretary took out the papers, and
it was evident that his interest was aroused from the outset, for he
read on till he had thoroughly mastered each document. This done he
left the office and walked rapidly to his club, where he ate a frugal
lunch, and afterwards went to the smoking-room.
“The Baron’s little game is very clever, but will it succeed?”
He asked himself the question but could come to no decision.
“Perhaps an interview with Gaunt will give me the answer,” he said
musingly and having finished his cigar, he started walking rapidly to
Park Lane.
None recognized him save a policeman, for he was a man who loathed
advertisement, and considered that he was most successful as a foreign
secretary when his name was least in evidence. By the time he reached
Gaunt’s house, his mind was made up as to the course he should take at
the coming interview.
There was a few minutes’ wait in the hall, and he noticed with approval
the quiet taste with which the place was furnished.
“Evidently Lady Mildred was consulted,” was the thought, but in this he
was wrong, for Gaunt had chosen everything, even before he had dreamt
of marriage.
To his knowledge Sir Keith had never seen the millionaire, and so he
looked with keen interest at the man who greeted him, noting the strong
face and air of self-reliance.
“The mountain would not come to Mahomet——But I am afraid that quotation
is unappropriate, for I certainly am no prophet, Mr. Gaunt. May I sit
down?”
Sir Keith had held out his hand, and felt Gaunt’s steady grip.
“There is nothing flabby in this man’s nature,” was his thought, and he
braced himself up for a battle.
He sank back luxuriously in the big armchair, while Gaunt brought a box
of cigars.
“Will you smoke, sir?” he asked quietly.
“Thank you. I suppose you know what I have come about. It was very good
of you to invite me to your house. Quite a pleasant change from my
office. This room is very restful; and if I were a rich man I should
choose just such a place. Ah, I see you have excellent taste in books.
Isn’t that a Caxton?”
“Don’t you think we had better get our business over, and then the
library is at your service,” Gaunt answered, and the respectful tone
removed any suspicion of rudeness.
Sir Keith gave him a quick glance, for he was not accustomed to
be answered quite in this way. It was usually his rôle to lead a
conversation.
“I will be frank and blunt. Why are you carrying on this insane
crusade? You can do no good to the natives of the Congo, and you will
only injure yourself. In addition, it is very embarrassing to me as
foreign secretary, for I tell you it is utterly impossible to do
anything more than I have done. Perhaps in a few months’ time the
political atmosphere will have cleared, and then we may be able to do
more than make representations to the Belgian government. I may say
that, as a private individual, I sympathize with all you are doing. In
the past the conduct of the Congo officials has been diabolical, and
according to the evidence which I have been receiving up to the last
week or so, they are not improving matters. I read your first speech,
and I agree with you that the Belgians intend to exploit the Congo
until they have exhausted the country. I agree with you that there
is no faith to be placed in their promises of reform, and that their
present budget proves them to be liars. This is said in confidence, as
man to man. I believe I have the reputation of not being callous or
hard-hearted, and if it were possible I would intervene at once. But I
tell you solemnly and sincerely that at present we can go no farther
than to make representations. You are only considering the Congo. I
must think of the well-being of the British Empire. The present is a
time of great danger, for a spark might start a war which would appal
mankind. It is my duty to avoid every possibility of causing a spark.
It is my opinion that if we intervene by force, there would be danger
of war with another country, and I dare not run the risk. I am not
usually a man of many words, but I have spoken at such length so that
you may fully understand my position. Now I ask you to cease this
public outcry.”
Sir Keith had risen, and stood face to face with Gaunt. Their eyes met,
and for a while neither spoke. At last the foreign secretary uttered a
little sigh and turned away.
“And that answer is final?” he asked wearily, although Gaunt had not
spoken.
“Absolutely. I thank you for coming to see me. I thought you to be a
very different man, and I now see that it was a petty act—my refusal to
go to you. Pray forgive me.”
“I, too, was mistaken in you, Mr. Gaunt. Whatever may be your motive, I
do not think it is an unworthy one. It is a pity that your life has not
been different. England can do with such men as yourself. Good-bye.”
Again the two men eyed one another steadily.
“I won’t insult you by pressing you to change your mind.”
Sir Keith sighed once more, and now his face seemed to have aged.
“By the bye, I must warn you of one thing. We have not mentioned the
Baron de Croiseuil, but you have probably realized that he is your
bitterest enemy. I don’t think I shall be betraying a confidence, if
I tell you that an application will be made at Bow Street at once.
It concerns the death on the Congo of a man named Marillier, and
proceedings will be taken for your extradition to that country on a
charge of murder.”
Gaunt’s face was set, and his mouth was drawn into a grim line, but he
did not falter.
“It was a kindness to tell me,” he said quietly.
Sir Keith Hamilton gave Gaunt a glance of admiration and then continued
deprecatingly:
“It is evident that this summons for extradition is a move upon the
part of the Baron de Croiseuil to discredit you, and I assure you that
he will not have my support,” he said with quiet emphasis.
“It is very good of you to tell me this, sir, especially after the
attitude I have taken up,” Gaunt answered earnestly.
“I don’t profess to understand your motive for stirring up this
agitation, and I don’t ask for your confidence, but——”
He paused expressively, and there was an expression of inquiry on
his face. Gaunt knew not what to say, for how could he give his real
motive—the vow? And that was not the sole reason, for now he was
animated by a keen desire to defeat those who were attacking him so
spitefully. His love of fighting had been raised to fever-heat, and yet
he could not explain those mingled feelings to the foreign secretary.
“I do not fear this police court business, sir. But I thank you for
your kindness. Will you answer me one question frankly?”
“Yes,” Sir Keith answered with a friendly smile, for he felt greatly
drawn to this man and would gladly have helped him in any way that was
possible.
“However great becomes this agitation for reform in the Congo, however
great pressure is brought to bear upon you as foreign secretary, shall
you stick to what you have just told me, namely, that you will go no
further than making representations to the Belgian government?” Gaunt
asked earnestly.
“That is as far as I intend to go, unless there is a very material
alteration in the international position in Europe.”
“Which isn’t likely!”
“Which is very improbable. And now I hope that you will give me the
assurance for which I have asked.”
“I regret that it is impossible, but believe me, Sir Keith, that I
shall always be grateful to you for the consideration you have shown
me to-day. If, in the future, I am fated to act contrary to your
wishes and in a way that you will condemn, I ask you to think of me as
leniently as possible,” Gaunt said, and his voice shook a little.
“I don’t know at what you are hinting, Mr. Gaunt; but when this Congo
agitation is forgotten I can only say that I should like to know you.
It seems to me that we have many interests in common. May I look round
your shelves? I still have an hour to spare,” Sir Keith said genially.
And Gaunt proceeded to point out his treasures, and the talk became
animated, as they discussed the beauties of some of the rare volumes.
The Shakespeare folios came in for great attention, and Sir Keith was
frankly envious.
“What it is to be a poor man when money will buy such things as these,”
he said with a sigh.
While they were in the midst of their engrossing talk Lady Mildred came
in, for she had been made anxious by their long conference. Tea was
served and Sir Keith showed her great attention, but all the time he
was studying the husband and wife, and soon came to the conclusion that
they loved one another. For a moment he was tempted to try to use Lady
Mildred in a last attempt to influence Gaunt, but quickly the idea was
dismissed as an unworthy one. And at last he rose.
“I hope to be able to follow up this meeting with your husband, if he
will allow me to do so,” he said to her pleasantly, and that was the
only occasion on which he made a remark that might have been construed
as a reference to the Congo question.
When he had gone Gaunt turned to his wife and spoke with deep
earnestness.
“That is a man, Mildred, and I hate to have to fight against him. But——”
He broke off, for her arms were round him and she kissed him
passionately.
“No stupid politics, an you love me,” she whispered.