The Turk took a step towards the door.
“I have no time to listen to explanations from you or any one,” he replied. “My cab is waiting. I depart. If Mr. Heseltine-Wrigge is not satisfied with our transaction, I am sorry, but it is too late to alter anything.”
For a moment it seemed as though a struggle between the two men was inevitable. Already people were glancing at them curiously, for Mr. Heseltine-Wrigge came of a primitive school, and he had no intention whatever of letting his man escape. Fortunately, at that moment Count von Hern came up and Peter at once appealed to him.
“Count,” he said, “may I beg for your good offices? My friend, Mr. Heseltine-Wrigge here, is determined to have a few words with Major Kosuth before he leaves. Surely this is not an unreasonable request when you consider the magnitude of the transaction which has taken place between them! Let me beg of you to persuade Major Kosuth to give us ten minutes. There is plenty of time for the train, and this is not the place for a brawl.”
“It will not take us long, Kosuth, to hear what our friend has to say,” he remarked. “We shall be quite quiet in the smoking-room. Let us go in there and dispose of the affair.”
The Turk turned unwillingly in the direction indicated. All four men passed through the cafe, up some stairs, and into the small smoking-room. The room was deserted. Peter led the way to the far corner, and standing with his elbow leaning upon the mantelpiece, addressed them.
“The position is this,” he said. “Mr. Heseltine-Wrigge has parted with a million and a half of his own money, a loan to the Turkish Government, on security which is not worth a snap of the fingers.”
“It is a lie!” Major Kosuth exclaimed.
“My dear Baron, you are woefully misinformed,” the Count declared.
Peter shook his head slowly.