When Baron de Croiseuil heard the magistrate’s decision that bail
should be granted to Gaunt, his indignation was intense, for both
his solicitor and Mr. Ruggles, K. C., had advised him that such an
eventuality need not be considered. Immediately the case was over, he
hastened back to his hotel where he was soon joined by Sherren, who had
been in attendance at the court.
“English magistrates are fools,” the Baron cried angrily by way of
greeting, and Sherren did not dissent from this stricture on the bench.
“What is your next move?” the latter asked.
“I haven’t yet considered it, for I had counted upon Gaunt being put
safely out of the way for a time. What about the Amanti case?”
“Weiss is in a furious rage that his name had been mentioned, and when
I saw him last night, he made all sorts of threats.”
“Never mind Weiss. He doesn’t count. Do you think your friend of
the Amanti Company would bring Gaunt into the case? I understand
that counsel is of opinion that he could be got at on a charge of
conspiracy?”
“That is true, Baron, but that would necessitate Weiss also being
charged.”
“I said that Weiss didn’t count, and if necessary he’ll have to suffer
with the others,” De Croiseuil said impatiently.
“Wouldn’t it be better to wait till the adjourned hearing of Gaunt’s
case? If you can only manage to get some strong evidence from Brussels,
the magistrate would refuse to grant bail.”
“That is impossible, for there’s no evidence to be got.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time that evidence had been manufactured,”
Sherren suggested.
“True, but I don’t like your English courts of justice. Now, if the
trial were only taking place in the Congo——”
He shrugged his shoulders expressively, and lapsed into silence.
“I think we had better wait developments,” he said at last. “You can
go, Sherren, for you will have plenty of work to do. See that the case
is reported as fully as possible from our point of view,” he added
significantly.
“I shall have some difficulty in working the papers. Sir Richard Tester
is a man who carries a good deal of weight, and he did not mince
matters to-day. It is probable that the more influential journals will
regard the case as an attempt to close Gaunt’s mouth, and as I have
already told you, our press is not easily handled. Besides, newspapers
may not comment upon a case which is _sub judice_.”
“You think that the bringing of the case was a mistake?”
“Yes, inasmuch as bail was granted. Gaunt’s meetings will be packed and
now the British public will look upon him as something of a martyr.”
“You must persuade your Amanti friends to prosecute him. They can’t say
that I have a hand in that and the two cases together may make some
impression.”
“It might be done, but Gaunt is a powerful man, and my friend might not
like the task of fighting him,” Sherren said slowly.
“What kind of a man is he—as unscrupulous as yourself?”
“Pardon me, Baron, but there is no need to insult me.”
“Can you bribe him?” the Baron asked impatiently.
“He might be prepared to accept a pecuniary inducement,” Sherren
answered cautiously.
“Sound him, and let me know the result. Now you can go.”
It was but seldom that the Baron’s manner lost the suavity but he was
upset for he realized that he had been guilty of an unforgivable sin—an
error in tactics. However, the events of the next few days reassured
him somewhat, for Gaunt made no sign. In fact several meetings on the
Congo question had been canceled and he began to grow rather uneasy.
“Have I frightened him?” he asked himself.
But instinct told him that Gaunt was not the man to be beaten so easily
and he wondered what was to be the next move. He had seen Lady Mildred
leave the court during the trial, and had ascertained that she had
gone to Lynton House. Therefore it was natural to suppose that husband
and wife had quarreled, and he realized that Gaunt must be greatly
embittered by the false story that he had put forward. To add to the
Baron’s discomfort, the authorities in Belgium were very displeased
with what had happened, and their letters had expressed their opinions
very forcibly. The Baron, for the first time, was glad that his late
master was dead for King Leopold would have shown him no mercy.
However, witnesses were sent over from Brussels, and amongst them
was the official who had made inquiries into Marillier’s death. This
gentleman’s name was M. Bouvais and his instructions were to proceed to
the Baron’s hotel.
“You are prepared to give evidence?” De Croiseuil asked curtly in
French.
“Certainly, your Excellency, but I speak very little English.”
“That doesn’t matter. But, stay, I will translate to you what our
counsel, M. Ruggles—_mon dieu_ what a name!—what the counsel said at
the court.”
Bouvais listened attentively, and his face was expressive of blank
amazement.
“Now you know what your evidence will be. It is not difficult to
remember,” the Baron wound up cheerfully.
“But it is not the truth. I examined the facts and judged that Gaunt
was justified in shooting Marillier. The man was _canaille_,” Bouvais
said quietly.
“You must forget that and only remember what I have just read,” the
Baron rejoined suavely.
“I fear that I do not understand your Excellency. As a man of honor I
must tell the truth,” Bouvais said with quiet dignity.
“The exigencies of the service demand a little sacrifice. It is
essential that Gaunt is confined in prison. Remember what is at stake,
monsieur.”
“My honor is at stake and I remember that.”
“Don’t be foolish, mon cher Bouvais. We have a way of handsomely
rewarding those who are zealous for our interests. If I remember your
record, you were not quite so scrupulous in the Congo. As a minor
official you got more than your quantum of rubber, and there were a
few incidents in the collecting of it. There was the massacre of one
village about which the missionaries made an outcry. They demanded your
trial, and we protected you. It was not so very long ago that you were
in charge of a district. Of course we denied that you were guilty of
atrocities, but how many natives were killed when that chief rebelled?
You wiped out many villages and——”
“They were only natives, and I did as I had been ordered. I did as my
brother officials have done and are doing,” Bouvais answered warmly.
“And yet you will not consent to give this evidence against Gaunt?”
“No. He is a white man, and I liked him,” was the decisive reply.
“Ah, Bouvais, your answer pains me, for I fear that we shall cease to
be friends. You are drawing a pension, and we cannot continue to pay
one who will not go out of his way to help us.”
“The pension is a small one and I am not a poor man.”
“And all your wealth you have got through us. This is your gratitude to
those who gave you the chance of becoming a rich man. But you cannot
be serious. Consider, my friend. You are rich and we can add to your
riches; upon my recommendation you will receive honors.”
“But in receiving honors I shall lose my own. I cannot do this thing,
and nothing you can say will make me change my decision.”
The Baron was a keen judge of human nature, and knew when he was
beaten, so he made no further effort to persuade Bouvais.
“You can go back to Brussels. I will report upon your disobedience,” he
said coldly.
Bouvais bowed slightly, and without another word left the room. He was
like dozens of his fellow-countrymen, who think nothing of killing off
and torturing a native, yet would hesitate to commit deliberate perjury.
The Baron was thoroughly irritated by his lack of success, and, for a
while, paced restlessly up and down the room until he was interrupted
by the entrance of a waiter.
“Mr. Weiss is here, sir.”
“I cannot see him. Say that I am engaged,” the Baron said impatiently.
“I rather expected that, so I took the precaution of coming up,” Weiss
said from the doorway, and strolled in.
There was a glitter of anger in his eyes, but his manner was very calm
and collected.
“What explanation have you to give me of your dastardly conduct?” he
demanded.
“I do not understand. Have you any cause for complaint?” the Baron
asked quickly.
“You know that you have betrayed me. It was your tool Sherren who
caused Davies to be prosecuted, and it was you who caused my name to be
mentioned.”
“Why should I do that, Mr. Weiss?”
“Because you wish to get at Gaunt. I came to you as a friend, and I
trusted you. In return you have made my name a byword.”
“I deny it. I have had nothing to do with the matter,” the Baron said
calmly.
“And Sherren?”
“He had nothing to do with it—to my knowledge. I am surprised that you
can accuse me of such dishonorable conduct.”
“I happen to know that Sherren was the moving spirit. I am not a fool,
Baron, and understand that you found it necessary to sacrifice me. You
deny it—well—we will leave it at that for the moment. Good-day, Baron.
I think that you will find me a dangerous enemy,” Weiss said menacingly
and took his departure.
And the Baron resumed his restless walk, but he was disturbed by
the Jew’s threats, for he knew the man to be powerful. However, he
comforted himself with the thought that Weiss could do very little to
injure him. Any exposure of the part he (the Baron) had played would
naturally call attention to Weiss’ own guilt.
The Baron was present at the adjourned hearing against Gaunt, and to
his dismay, the magistrate was not in the least sympathetic. In fact he
commented severely upon the evidence that was brought forward, and when
he adjourned the court made some significant remarks to Mr. Ruggles.
“I am very dissatisfied with this case. It seems to me that it has been
brought recklessly, and without sufficient evidence.”
“My material witnesses were in the Congo but they are now on the way
to this country,” Mr. Ruggles intervened.
“Until their arrival, I will say no more.”
“There is further evidence that I can produce in a week’s time,” Mr.
Ruggles urged.
“Then I will adjourn the case till then. The prisoner will be released
on the same bail.”
“I am instructed that there is a grave suspicion that the prisoner
intends to leave the country, and I strongly urge that your Worship
will refuse to grant bail.”
“May I ask if my learned friend has any evidence to back up that
suggestion?” Sir Richard Tester asked quietly.
But Mr. Ruggles made no answer.
“The insinuation is in keeping with the rest of the case—groundless,”
Sir Richard continued.
“The bail will be as before,” the magistrate announced abruptly.
And John Gaunt, who stood in the dock, drew a deep breath of relief.