Part 25 (1/2)

”I came to you, sir,” the official replied, ”because I have the privilege of knowing you personally, and because I was quite sure that in your hands the matter would be treated wisely.”

”You are sure of your facts, I suppose?”

”Absolutely, sir.”

”I do not know much about navy procedure,” Mr. Hebblethwaite said thoughtfully, ”but it scarcely seems to me possible for what you tell me to have been kept secret.”

”It is not only possible, sir,” the man a.s.sured him, ”but it has been done before in Lord Charles Beresford's time. You will find, if you make enquiries, that not only are the Press excluded to-day from the s.h.i.+pbuilding yards in question, but the work-people are living almost in barracks. There are double sentries at every gate, and no one is permitted under any circ.u.mstances to pa.s.s the outer line of offices.”

Mr. Hebblethwaite sat, for a few moments, deep in thought.

”Well, Mr. Harrison,” he said at last, ”there is no doubt that you have done what you conceived to be your duty, although I must tell you frankly that I wish you had either kept what you know to yourself or taken the information somewhere else. Since you have brought it to me, let me ask you this question. Are you taking any further steps in the matter at all?”

”Certainly not, sir,” was the quiet reply. ”I consider that I have done my duty and finished with it, when I leave this room.”

”You are content, then,” Mr. Hebblethwaite observed, ”to leave this matter entirely in my hands?”

”Entirely, sir,” the official a.s.sented. ”I am perfectly content, from this moment, to forget all that I know. Whatever your judgment prompts you to do, will, I feel sure, be satisfactory.”

Mr. Hebblethwaite rose to his feet and held out his hand.

”Well, Mr. Harrison,” he concluded, ”you have performed a disagreeable duty in a tactful manner. Personally, I am not in the least grateful to you, for, as I dare say you know, Mr. Spencer Wyatt is a great friend of mine. As a member of the Government, however, I think I can promise you that your services shall not be forgotten. Good evening!”

The official departed. Mr. Hebblethwaite thrust his hands into his pockets, glanced at the clock impatiently, and made use of an expression which seldom pa.s.sed his lips. He was in evening dress, and due to dine with his wife on the other side of the Park. Furthermore, he was very hungry. The whole affair was most annoying. He rang the bell.

”Ask Mr. Bedells to come here at once,” he told the servant, ”and tell your mistress I am exceedingly sorry, but I shall be detained here for some time. She had better go on without me and send the car back. I will come as soon as I can. Explain that it is a matter of official business.

When you have seen Mrs. Hebblethwaite, you can bring me a gla.s.s of sherry and a biscuit.”

The man withdrew, and Mr. Hebblethwaite opened a telephone directory. In a few moments Mr. Bedells, who was his private secretary, appeared.

”Richard,” his chief directed, ”ring up Mr. Spencer Wyatt. Tell him that whatever his engagements may be, I wish to see him here for five minutes.

If he is out, you must find out where he is. You can begin by ringing up at his house.”

Bedells devoted himself to the telephone. Mr. Hebblethwaite munched a biscuit and sipped his sherry. Presently the latter laid down the telephone and reported success.

”Mr. Spencer Wyatt was on his way to a city dinner, sir,” he announced.

”They caught him in the hall and he will call here.”

Mr. Hebblethwaite nodded. ”See that he is sent up directly he comes.”

In less than five minutes Mr. Spencer Wyatt was ushered in. He was wearing the uniform of an Admiral of the Fleet--a tall, broad-shouldered man, fair complexioned, and with the bearing of a sailor.

”Hullo, Hebblethwaite, what's wrong?” he asked. ”Your message just caught me. I am dining with the wors.h.i.+pful tanners--turtle soup and all the rest of it. Don't let me miss more than I can help.”

Mr. Hebblethwaite walked to the door to be sure that it was closed and came back again.

”Look here, Wyatt,” he exclaimed, ”what the devil have you been up to?”

Wyatt whistled softly. A light broke across his face.

”What do you mean?” he demanded.