“Well, Mr. Graham?”
“I’m an engineer. Naval ordnance happens to be my subject.”
“As you please. The point is that Messrs. Cator and Bliss, Ltd., have contracted to do some work for my Government. Good. Now, Mr. Graham, I do not know exactly what that work is”-he waved his cigarette airily-“that is the affair of the Ministry of Marine. But I have been told some things. I know that certain of our naval vessels are to be rearmed with new guns and torpedo tubes and that you were sent to discuss the matter with our dockyard experts. I also know that our authorities stipulated that the new equipment should be delivered by the spring. Your company agreed to that stipulation. Are you aware of it?”
“I have been aware of nothing else for the past two months.”
“Iyi dir! Now I may tell you, Mr. Graham, that the reason for that stipulation as to time was not mere caprice on the part of our Ministry of Marine. The international situation demands that we have that new equipment in our dockyards by the time in question.”
“I know that, too.”
“Excellent. Then you will understand what I am about to say. The naval authorities of Germany and Italy and Russia are perfectly well aware of the fact that these vessels are being rearmed and I have no doubt that the moment the work is done, or even before, their agents will discover the details known at the moment only to a few men, yourself among them. That is unimportant. No navy can keep that sort of secret: no navy expects to do so. We might even consider it advisable, for various reasons, to publish the details ourselves. But”-he raised a long, well-manicured finger-“at the moment you are in a curious position, Mr. Graham.”
“That, at least, I can believe.”
The Colonel’s small grey eyes rested on him coldly. “I am not here to make jokes, Mr. Graham.”
“I beg your pardon.”