A car stopped outside. They heard the sound of footsteps in the hall, the door was quickly opened. Mr. Foley stood there. He was looking very grave and white, but his eyes flashed at the sight of Maraton.
"You!" he exclaimed.
He gave his coat and hat to the servant; then he closed the door behind him. He remained standing—he offered no form of greeting to his unexpected visitor.
"What do you want?" he demanded. "Why have you come to me?"
"To give you your chance," Maraton replied, with swift emphasis. "You are the only statesman I know who would have courage to accept it. Dare you?"
Mr. Foley remained speechless. He stood perfectly still, with folded arms.
"This isn't an hour for recriminations," Maraton continued. "I have played into Maxendorf's hands—I admit it. There's time to checkmate him. I'll free every railroad in the country to-morrow, and the coal-pits next day, with your help."
"I have forced your delegates to come to me," Mr. Foley answered. "To all my offers they have but one reply: they await your word; they are not seeking for terms."
"Accept mine," Maraton begged, "and I swear to you that they shall consent. Mind, it isn't a small thing, but it's salvation, and it's the only salvation."
"Go on," Mr. Foley commanded.