“Gaunt is evidently a man with a personality, and I shall be interested to meet him.”
“You intend to go to his house?” the Earl cried in surprise.
“Yes, but there is no necessity to mention my intention to Gaunt.”
A secretary had entered and placed a piece of paper before Sir Keith.
“Yes, I will see the Baron, but not until I ring. Good-evening, my lord. Please keep in constant touch with the office,” the latter remarked to the Earl, who then left the room.
When the door was closed, Sir Keith rose and began to pace to and fro. It was evident that he was thinking deeply, and now one could see that the first impression of youth was false, for there were deep lines on his clean shaven face, and the hair near his temples was turning gray.
Then he took up a précis which told him of the latest developments in the Congo agitation, and his brows became puckered into a frown as he read.
“This man must be stopped. Now we will see what the Baron has to say,” he muttered irritably, and then touched the button of the electric bell.
The two men were old acquaintances, and had a mutual respect for one another’s ability. The Baron possessed an advantage for he knew that Sir Keith was a straightforward gentleman, and incapable of chicanery and underhand dealing.
“I expected you before this, Baron. You have been in London some few days,” the minister remarked, as he returned the Belgian’s elaborate bow.