Next morning I rose early. I had a large amount of work to get through before the meeting, which was to take place at eleven o'clock. At a quarter to that hour I drove down to Whitehall, and made my way to the Foreign Office.
"This is terrible news indeed, Manderville," said the Prime Minister, as we shook hands. "Poor Grey-Mortimer and all those gallant men! I scarcely like to think of the effect it will produce upon the country. First, that succession of disastrous defeats, then Woller's extraordinary disappearance, and now this new catastrophe. However, as we shall have to discuss that directly, I will say no more at present. Are we all here?"
There was only one person who had not arrived, the Colonial Secretary.
"It's not like Castellan to be unpunctual," said the Prime Minister. "Doubtless, however, it won't be long before he puts in an appearance."
When ten minutes had elapsed and still he did not come, a messenger was despatched to the Colonial Office in search of him. It was not long before he returned with the information that Castellan had not yet arrived at his office. Close upon the heels of this message came another from Mrs Castellan anxiously inquiring for her husband, who, it appeared, had not come home on the previous night, nor had any communication been received from him. As I heard this a great fear took possession of me. I had said good-night to him in Cockspur Street, only a few paces from his own front door, and had seen him walk in that direction. How was it, then, that he had not reached it? Was he the victim of a plot? Had he disappeared like Woller, never to be heard of again?
CHAPTER IV
Some idea of the wave of consternation which swept over England, when it became known that the Right Honourable Benjamin Castellan, Secretary of State for the Colonies had disappeared as mysteriously as Sir William Woller had done before him, will be derived when I say that edition after edition of the evening papers had been sold by three o'clock in the afternoon. It was in every sense a grave national calamity, for, as we all know, at this particular juncture in the country's history, Benjamin Castellan, of all others, was the man who could least be spared.
"You are sure, I suppose, Sir George, that Castellan intended going home after you parted in Cockspur Street," the Prime Minister enquired, looking at me along the table.