“You are amazed, of course,” he proceeded, “but it is nevertheless the truth. The fact has just come to light, and I have been invited to join this new emergency Council, composed of one or two Socialists and writers, amongst them a very distinguished prelate; Labour Members of Parliament, and representatives of the various Trades Unions, a body of men which you doubtless know all about. I attended a meeting at Westminster an hour ago, and I was entrusted with this commission to you.”
Mr. Stenson sat down suddenly.
“God bless my soul!” he exclaimed. “You—Julian Orden!”
There was a moment’s silence. Mr. Stenson, however, was a man of immense recuperative powers. He assimilated the new situation without further protest.
“You have given me the surprise of my life, Orden,” he confessed. “That, however, is a personal matter. Hannaway Wells is in the study. You have no objection, I suppose, to his being present?”
“None whatever.”
Mr. Stenson rang the bell, and in a few minutes they were joined by his colleague. The former wasted no time in explanations.
“You will doubtless be as astonished as I was, Wells,” he said, “to learn that our friend Julian Orden comes here as the representative of the new Labour Council. His qualifications, amongst others, are that under the pseudonym of ‘Paul Fiske’ he is the writer of those wonderful articles which have been the beacon light and the inspiration of the Labour Party for the last year.”
Mr. Hannaway Wells prided himself upon never being surprised. This time the only way he could preserve his reputation was by holding his tongue.
“We are now prepared to hear your mission,” Mr. Stenson continued, turning to his visitor.