"But that is madness," cried Flurscheim. He gesticulated wildly in his excitement. He protested, he implored, he argued that only an entirely wrong-headed sense of duty could demand such a course of action. But Marven remained inflexible, and Guy supported him in his determination.
He was still arguing when the striking of a clock warned Marven that he must leave. Already it had been arranged that Guy was to accompany him to the Foreign Office. "I shall come, too," declared the Jew. "Sir Everard Markham is an old acquaintance of mine. Perhaps he will make you listen to reason."
Neither Captain Marven nor Guy believed that he would fulfil his threat. But they did not know the pertinacity with which Flurscheim carried out every scheme to which he had once set his hand. They left him on the pavement, and drove to Whitehall, but Flurscheim followed them a few minutes later. When he arrived at the Foreign Office Captain Marven had already been shown to the Permanent Secretary's room. Flurscheim demanded notepaper, and, scribbling a hasty note, succeeded in persuading a messenger to deliver it to Sir Everard Markham at once. Then he sat down, and awaited the result.
The note was delivered as he desired, but it remained unopened for a while. The Permanent Secretary was far too deeply immersed in the business in hand to have a single thought for anything else.
It was a distasteful task which Sir Everard Markham had undertaken to perform. Never before, during his tenure of office, had he been called upon to question the honesty of any of his trusted officials. That a soldier and a gentleman could be so lost to all sense of honour as to deliberately steal government secrets for purposes of private gain was almost unthinkable. Yet the report which Detective Inspector Kenly had made left very little room for doubt as to Captain Marven's guilt. And Marven was the last man whom he should have suspected of such infamy. The Secretary of State, too, was as much amazed as the Permanent Secretary at Kenly's report. He also knew Captain Marven personally. He had dined at his house, they belonged to the same clubs, he would have pledged his whole estate on Marven's fidelity, and yet—he trusted that the damning facts might be explained away, though he doubted that it would be possible to furnish any plausible explanation of the facts save one.
Most damning of all to both their minds was the final item of information which Inspector Kenly had brought with him shortly before the hour at which it had been arranged for the King's Messenger to call. There could only be one explanation of Lynton Hora's communication with Marven within an hour or two of his reaching town. The two men must be in close communication with one another. Kenly himself no longer had any doubts as to Captain Marven's guilt. He only regretted that the exigencies of the situation were such that any one of the gang would escape his clutches. Still, there would be some satisfaction in having assisted to unmask such a scoundrel. He looked forward to the interview with keen anticipation. He had advised the course to be adopted, and, with some alterations of their own, both the Great Man and the Permanent Secretary had fallen in with his views.
But the interview was not destined to take the lines suggested, for almost the first words Captain Marven had spoken, when he had been ushered into the presence of his three judges, had thrown the carefully discussed plans into confusion. So intent was he on performing the duty he had laid down for himself, that he observed nothing out of the way in the presence of Sir Gadsby Dimbleby and another man, a stranger to him, in the Permanent Secretary's room. He did not observe that neither the Permanent Secretary nor the Great Man had offered him a hand, nor that there was a false ring about the "How d'ye do, Marven," with which Sir Gadsby greeted him. Trivialities, such as these, were of no importance to the man who had before him the terrible duty of denouncing the son whom he had but just found.
Captain Marven had mapped out for himself the course to be pursued. First he must make amends for his own share in the disclosure. He had failed in his trust. He had allowed himself to fall into the trap laid for him. There was only one way in which he could make amends.
"I suppose, Sir Markham," he said, "you have sent for me in the ordinary course. I regret that some matters I have to lay before you will probably lead you to the conclusion that I am no longer fit to be entrusted with your commands. I think it well to tell you at once, in case you are in urgent need of a messenger, so that you may communicate with the next man on the rota."
A dead silence followed his words. The Great Man looked at the Permanent Secretary and the Permanent Secretary returned the glance. One thought was common to each of their minds. Was Marven going to confess? They suddenly became aware that the Captain had aged considerably since they last saw him, that his face was worn and lined, his eyes dull. Yet he held himself erect, and his voice was calm.