“The Baron has come to England to try and silence me and he has told me pretty plainly what the consequences will be if I refuse to be silenced,” John Gaunt said grimly.
“I think it would be wiser that our business should not be discussed before a third party. This gentleman has the air of a priest, and I will leave him to give you good advice. Bon soir, messieurs.”
He bowed very politely, and walked to the door.
“I will give you till the morning for consideration. I am staying at the Ritz, and you will find me there till midday.”
The Baron smiled pleasantly, and it was not until he had entered the motor-car that was awaiting him, that he permitted the mask to fall from his face. It was now evident that all his resources would be needed to compel Gaunt to hold his tongue, and he was not at all sure that he would ultimately succeed. But he was an astute judge of human nature, and rather imagined that Gaunt’s one weak spot lay on his wife, and so he determined to turn his attention to Lady Mildred.
In the hall of the Ritz Hotel he found a gentleman waiting him, who rose to greet him.
“Good-evening, Sherren. I am sorry to be late, but it was unavoidable. Will you come up to my sitting-room?” the Baron said politely.
Charles Sherren was an insignificant little man who would have been quite unnoticeable had it not been for his eyes, which were remarkably intelligent. Well known in Fleet Street, but unattached to any newspaper, he was reported to make a good income, for he had been successful in one or two brilliant journalistic coups, that had brought him into prominence. An accomplished linguist, no one knew his real nationality, although many called him a Jew, a statement which he vigorously resented, in spite of his rather Semitic type of features.
To the Baron he had always proved a reliable tool, and had carried out the delicate instructions he was wont to receive with great skill. Sherren was responsible for the many reassuring statements that had appeared in the papers concerning the state of affairs in the Congo, and it was owing to his adroitness that editors had never suspected that their papers were being used by the Congo Press Bureau. In fact his name had never been publicly connected with the Free State, and on that account his services were likely to prove of all the greater value.
“I have just come from Gaunt,” the Baron remarked, when they were seated in his room.