less aimless manner. Newspapers which had hinted at a general strike, and the
inauguration of a reign of terror, were forced to hide their diminished heads.
The bolder and more astute among them sought to prove that peace had been
effected by following their counsels. In the Sunday papers a brief notice of the
sudden death of Sir James Peel Edgerton, the famous K.C., had appeared. Monday’s
paper dealt appreciatively with the dead man’s career. The exact manner of his
sudden death was never made public.
Tommy had been right in his forecast of the situation. It had been a
one-man show. Deprived of their chief, the organization fell to pieces.
Kramenin had made a precipitate return to Russia, leaving England early on
Sunday morning. The gang had fled from Astley Priors in a panic, leaving
behind, in their haste, various damaging documents which compromised them
hopelessly. With these proofs of conspiracy in their hands, aided further by a
small brown diary taken from the pocket of the dead man which had contained a
full and damning resume of the whole plot, the Government had called an
eleventh-hour conference. The Labour leaders were forced to recognize that they
had been used as a cat’s paw. Certain concessions were made by the Government,
and were eagerly accepted. It was to be Peace, not War!
But the Cabinet knew by how narrow a margin they had escaped utter
disaster. And burnt in on Mr. Carter’s brain was the strange scene which had
taken place in the house in Soho the night before.
He had entered the squalid room to find that great man, the friend of a
lifetime, dead–betrayed out of his own mouth. From the dead man’s pocket-book
he had retrieved the ill-omened draft treaty, and then and there, in the
presence of the other three, it had been reduced to ashes…. England was saved!
And now, on the evening of the 30th, in a private room at the Savoy, Mr.
Julius P. Hersheimmer was receiving his guests.
Mr. Carter was the first to arrive. With him was a choleric-looking old
gentleman, at sight of whom Tommy flushed up to the roots of his hair. He came
forward.
“Ha!” said the old gentleman, surveying him apoplectically. “So you’re my
nephew, are you? Not much to look at–but you’ve done good work, it seems.
Your mother must have brought you up well after all. Shall we let bygones be
bygones, eh? You’re my heir, you know; and in future I propose to make you an
allowance–and you can look upon Chalmers Park as your home.”
“Thank you, sir, it’s awfully decent of you.”
“Where’s this young lady I’ve been hearing such a lot about?”
Tommy introduced Tuppence.
“Ha!” said Sir William, eyeing her. “Girls aren’t what they used to be in
my young days.”
“Yes, they are,” said Tuppence. “Their clothes are different, perhaps, but
they themselves are just the same.”
“Well, perhaps you’re right. Minxes then–minxes now!”
“That’s it,” said Tuppence. “I’m a frightful minx myself.”
“I believe you,” said the old gentleman, chuckling, and pinched her ear in
high good-humour. Most young women were terrified of the “old bear,” as they
termed him. Tuppence’s pertness delighted the old misogynist.
Then came the timid archdeacon, a little bewildered by the company in which
he found himself, glad that his daughter was considered to have distinguished
herself, but unable to help glancing at her from time to time with nervous
apprehension. But Tuppence behaved admirably. She forbore to cross her legs,
set a guard upon her tongue, and steadfastly refused to smoke.
Dr. Hall came next, and he was followed by the American Ambassador.
“We might as well sit down,” said Julius, when he had introduced all his
guests to each other. “Tuppence, will you ”
He indicated the place of honour with a wave of his hand.
But Tuppence shook her head.
“No–that’s Jane’s place! When one thinks of how she’s held out all these
years, she ought to be made the queen of the feast to-night.”
Julius flung her a grateful glance, and Jane came forward shyly to the
allotted seat. Beautiful as she had seemed before, it was as nothing to the