"Quite right, sir," and Randell departed for the station.
"Quite right!" groaned Stanley as he sought the Sanctum Sanctorum of the Legation. "I only wish it were!"
CHAPTER VIII
DIPLOMATIC INSTRUCTIONS
Mr. Stanley's Chief was a grey, weazened little man, who had achieved distinction in diplomacy and in his country's councils, largely on account of his infinite capacity for holding his tongue. As a result he let fall little and learned much. His reticence, however, was not the reserve of impotence, but the reserve of power.
On this occasion he was busy at his great desk, which occupied the centre of the room, and merely glancing up at his Secretary's entrance, he resumed the piece of work on which he was engaged. Ten minutes later he put down his pen and gave his waiting subordinate an encouraging smile. It was his official permission to speak.
"I regret to say that I have got into a little scrape, sir, concerning which will you give me leave to clear myself?"
"Leave of absence or my approval, Mr. Stanley?"
"Both, your Excellency."
The Minister leaned back in his chair, rested his elbows on the arms, and bringing the first fingers of each hand together, held them at the level of his face and gazed attentively at their point of contact. It was a favourite attitude which the Secretary understood, and he at once gave a concise account of all the circumstances concerning Madame Darcy.
The Minister heard him out in perfect silence, and after taking a moment or two to ponder over his words, remarked quietly:
"It's a small world, Mr. Stanley."
"You mean the fact that Señor De Costa and my father were friends before they quarrelled, and that his daughter – "
"No, I do not mean that."
The Secretary thought it better policy not to ask what he did mean, though he much wished to know; and silence again reigned.
Presently the Minister sat up to his desk and ran his hand through the mass of papers upon it; finally unearthing one in particular, which he submitted to a careful scrutiny.
"Your report of your visit to the Foreign Office yesterday," he said – "a very important communication, Mr. Stanley."
If his Chief had a disagreeable trait, and he was on the whole an exceedingly amiable man, it was an assumed seriousness of speech and demeanour, which he intended for sarcasm, and which invariably misled his victims to their ultimate discomfiture.
Stanley, who was aware of this trait and not very proud of the report in question, hastened to disclaim any inherent excellence it might be supposed to contain.
"There's nothing in it, your Excellency, except that remark about 'parlous times.'"
"Which was just the thing I was most anxious to hear. It proves that the Foreign Office regards the accomplishment of the treaty as by no means certain."
Stanley, with difficulty, checked an exclamation of surprise, but he had learned to respect his Chief's little fads, and succeeded.
The Minister cleared his throat, an indication that this was one of the rare occasions on which he was about to speak at length, and on which he desired absolute attention and immunity from comment – and proceeded:
"For three hundred years a treaty has been pending between Great Britain and our own country, concerning the possession of an island lying at the mouth of the river X – . At first Spanish distrust of English aggression and, at a later period, the frequent changes of government to which our unfortunate country has been subjected, have prevented the successful termination of the negotiations.
"Matters have never been more favourable for its settlement than at the present time, and the immediate cession of the island to Great Britain, in return for a most satisfactory indemnity. For the last few weeks, however, we have noted an increasing opposition on the part of certain members of our own Ministry, to the acceptance of the English propositions, the cause of which has now been discovered. An influential manufacturing concern, officered and financed by certain unscrupulous persons in this country, owns large mills on the island in question, for the production of an article of which they would be assured a monopoly, did the territory still remain in our hands, but which would be open to competition did it come into the possession of Great Britain. The company, in order to obtain a continuance of the monopoly, have raised £40,000 for distribution among a majority of the committee, who are to pass upon the treaty, thus practically insuring the failure of the negotiations.
"While there is no reasonable doubt that this unfortunate state of affairs exists, we have not been able to obtain actual proofs of the same, and it is very necessary to do so, in order that the Executive should be able, when the treaty comes up for consideration, six weeks hence, to inform the intending offenders that their intrigue is known. It is not the intention of our government to create any scandal in this matter, it being quite sufficient to insure the passage of the treaty, that the Executive should hold proof of the Minister's guilt, and be in a position to back up the threat of exposure and punishment.
"Now it is known that the English agent intrusted with the financial part of this disgraceful scheme, the man who is to take the money to be used in bribery and corruption from this country to ours, is the worst type of an adventurer, a thorough-going scoundrel, and clever enough to make a fortune in some honest way. His name is Colonel Robert Darcy."
The Secretary so far forgot himself as to draw in his breath sharply, and his Chief looked at him with a disapproving frown, and then continued:
"This is why I said that the world was small when you told me of your connection with this man. For the past few weeks I have had him carefully watched, and I have learned that he is to go down to Sussex almost at once, to receive the money for this dishonourable purpose from one of the heads of the firm, a silent partner, whose identity we have not yet discovered. This money is to be paid in gold, and after receiving it, and his private instructions, Darcy will return at once to London and sail for the scene of his mission. I cannot watch his course in Sussex personally, and I do not think it wise to risk publicity by putting the affair in the hands of the police. Before you told me of your association with this man and his wife, I had some thoughts of giving you the conduct of this important and delicate matter, now – "
"Now!" burst out the Secretary, unable in his chagrin longer to contain himself, "I have by my stupid blundering rendered myself unfit for the place, and lost a splendid chance!"
The Minister was visibly annoyed.
"I was about to say, sir, when you interrupted me (a very bad habit of yours, Mr. Stanley), that you had unconsciously so perfectly adapted yourself to fill the position, that you have made it impossible for me to give it to anybody else."
Stanley gasped; he could not help it.
"A diplomat should never express anything," remarked his Chief severely, and continued his statement.
"The greatest triumph of art could never have placed you in the position you now occupy as a result of a fortuitous combination of events. You can go right to the ground where Darcy must operate, and any one of a dozen people can tell him that you have perfectly natural and innocent reasons for being there. Being only human and apparently very angry, he'll certainly seek you out, and you may depend on it that I'll see that he has definite information as to where you have gone and with whom you are staying. All you'll have to do is to associate yourself with him; he'll give you ample opportunity for doing so, and to keep your eyes open.
"I need hardly point out that, should you, during the next fortnight, be able to obtain in any way the required evidence, you would not only merit my approval but would put yourself in the sure way of promotion, and that for the best of all reasons, as one who has done a signal service to your country.
"Now, just a word of warning. Do not communicate with me unless it is absolutely necessary. Do not try to find out anything about Darcy; do not try to see him. Do not so much as breathe the treaty to anyone. Simply be yourself. He's bound to suspect you at first, and it will only be as time passes and he becomes convinced from your manner of life – that you are young, inexperienced and wholly unfit to be trusted with a diplomatic secret – that he'll put himself off his guard. Then will be your opportunity. Seize it if possible. That's all; now go. No thanks, please; I trust you will deserve mine when you return. I'll manage everything for you here, and the Legation pays your expenses – your leave is for an indefinite period."
Stanley bowed silently, his heart was too full to speak, and he turned to leave the room.
"Stop!" came his Chief's voice. "You ought to know that Darcy has a confederate. One of the two is a masterhand, probably the Colonel; but see if you can find out the other; I've not been able to do so."
Stanley started, a vivid remembrance flashing through his mind of Kingsland's significant caution to Darcy at the tea. "Sh'. He's looking our way! He'll hear us."
The Ambassador noticed the involuntary movement of his subordinate, and a grim smile played about his lips.
"Deportment, Mr. Secretary, deportment," he said. "A diplomat should always appear at his ease. So; that is better. You can go."
CHAPTER IX
A HOUSE-WARMING
Much has been written of the blessed state of them that go a house-partying in England, and certain it is that no pleasanter pastime has been devised by civilised man, and that in no other country in the world has it been brought to a like degree of perfection.
Two great canons govern these functions, which it would be exceedingly well did the hostesses of all lands "mark, learn and inwardly digest." The first is that all guests are on speaking terms of intimacy with each other from the time they arrive till they depart. My Lady may not know you next time you meet her in Bond Street, and the Countess perchance will have forgotten to put your name on her visiting list for the remainder of this or any other season, but during the blessed interval of your sojourn at that hospitable Hall in Berks, you knew them both, and they were very gracious and charming. The second rule is none the less framed for your comfort and convenience, and it reads: "Thou shalt be in all things thine own master."
Most admirable of rules. The amusements of the place, and most English country places are framed for some particular amusement, are put unreservedly at your disposal. Are you on the Thames? Boats and boatmen are at your beck and call. Are you North in the shooting season? A keeper waits your orders. Do you hunt? Grooms and horses are yours to command. But none of these things are you ever compelled to do. Should you fear the water, though you are on an island, no one will ever suggest to you the possibility of leaving it. While your ecclesiastical host, Bishop though he be, would never take it for granted that you were predisposed to week-day services and charity bazaars.
Mrs. Roberts was a perfect hostess, and there was no doubt that her house would shortly be a favourite on many lists.
I say, "would be," advisedly, for she had quite recently come into the possession of her own, which had been another's; a distant cousin, in short, the last of his branch of the family, who had the good sense to drink himself to death, shortly before the opening of this narrative, and leave his fine old Elizabethan manor house to his very charming relative, an action which did him no credit, because the estate was entailed, and he could not help it.
Roberts Hall had more than one attraction: indeed, it was blessed with an unusual number of delightful adjuncts for a country place, which does not pretend to be a demesne. For one thing, a number of miles intervened between the lodge gates and the Hall, and that, in England, is a great consideration. As long as one has plenty of land, the manner of one's habitation is of little account, while in America houses must be as large or larger than one can afford, and if when they are built they cover most of our land, we are none the worse off in our neighbour's estimation.